Butterfly Dream | Teen Ink

Butterfly Dream

February 16, 2011
By Anonymous

“ I am going to jump!” I hollered.

“ What did you just say! ”

“ I am going to jump. SEE!.........”

I plunged off the top of the famous for locals, Bridge of Hangwagon.

I jumped, feeling the wind in my hair, breeze down my shirt, screaming words I have never used before. Enjoying myself until....

A pull... then a rip....then a jerk....then a “O no you DIDN’T just jump! I am telling mom!”
“Please don’t. I can’t live anymore. YOU don’t Understand!” I yelled uncontrollably
“ What don’t I understand? I am your sister, the one you told everything to. The one that used to say I jump, you jump.”
“ Well, Margaret I have changed. I have grown up. You used to call me Britt Britt, now all I want to be called is Brittney. I swear you won’t understand. You don’t know me anymore. I have changed. We are different now. We have separated. I am now just Brittney and you are just Margaret.”
“ But, but Brittney, you will always be my older sister, suicidal or not. I will always love you unconditionally, Brittney. I will always be there for you. I may only be 15 but I know a lot more then most of my peers.”
“ No NO! You don’t. You think you do! I don’t want to talk. By the way I also do love you, but we are just sisters. Nothing else. I have tried more things to make me happy then you can think of. I have my own friends, my own life.”
“Just go...” Margaret whispered just for me and the sun to hear.

As those words flowed out of her mouth, a butterfly with a dream whooshed by, As that happened I knew I didn’t want to jump again. I was just trying another thing to make me feel better. Now I feel horrible. I lost my sister from this fight. I lost her to a fight, a silly little fight. Caused by silly carelessness. I all I wanted was to end my life, I never thought of what it would do to Margaret. But it did a lot more then ruin our sisterhood.

I was zoned out then I heard “ Ahhhhhhhhhh” BOOM. Margaret hit the water. I cried. Now I know I lost her forever.

I biked home from the bridge, slow and sorrowfully, I imagined what I am going to say to mom. So far I had something like this...” Mom, I am sorry, truly sorry, I know I have let you down before, and today. I am your daughter, now I am your only daughter. Margaret, she committed suicide. I am so sorry. I was about to jump but then Margaret she saved me from jumping. Then we had a fight, and it ended with a splash.”

As I pulled into my driveway, I see my mom in tears on the porch trying to yell my name with pain and agony. Screaming and jumping “ Brittney, BRITTney BRITTNEY, WHERE IS MARGARET?! SHE WAS SUPPOSE TO BE HOME TWO HOURS AGO!”
I pulled up crying, Then I gave my mom an explanation. She started crying. Asking questions I don’t know the answers to. Being a single mom, she was crushed to find out that it was just me and her now.

Later we drove over to the bridge to find Margaret’s body, in order to prepare a full burial. But when we got there we found..... Margaret dead? Yes we did find a body floating down the river. Mom and I ran beside the river. Mom ran into a homeless man, chest to chest. He cried out cuss words in French as mom slowly backed away.
“David, is that you??” Mom questioned.
“Anna Bell? It’s been so long. As you see, I never got the promotion.” David replied
“ As you see, I haven’t made it big either.”
I butted in “ Mom, who is this???”
Mom hesitated, then replied “ Dad.”
My chin dropped seven flights of stairs.
Dad replied looking at Margaret“ Is that... that’s Margaret right??”
“Yes David, that’s Margaret. Would you like to come back home for some tea? And to figure all this out?”
“Yes, that would be lovely.”
Mom and I grabbed Margaret and walked away, Both of us in tears.

A few days later at Margaret’s funeral.
“…. Now my daughter Brittney would like to say some words.” Mom said, eyes trying to cry tears that won’t come out.
I got up to the front of the church.
“ Margaret was such a powerful person. She influenced me so many times, most for the better. If Margaret hadn’t died, she would be the one right here, right now talking about me. She killed herself to save me from jumping off the bridge of Hangwagon. I haven’t told her this in a while, but I love her. Now I would like to take a minute of silence for Margaret......”
A minute later
“.... When I was ten, eight years ago I decided I didn’t want to be me. I wanted to be someone else. Someone “better”. I say better like that because at the time I thought it was an improvement, but now I know I was wrong. Like I was saying before, I wanted to be “better” meaning I did not want to be me. At age eleven, I started smoking, thinking that these little life intermissions were going to “help me.” They did just the opposite of that. I felt horrible, day in and day out. Margaret was the only one who knew, at this point we were closer than ever. We would talk to mid-night every night.
After a year, on my 12 birthday, she helped me quit, naturally. I felt twenty times better. After that, I tried meditation and many other “natural” healing techniques. Those didn’t work. Everything I tried was to save me. When I was 16, I tried distancing from her. That led to drugs. I tried drugs for two years. During those two years my two best friends Lissa Ann and Jessica Sue died. That made me stop. During those two years, Margaret tried to become close to me, I blocked her out. That day on the bridge one month ago on February 12 I tried jumping, Margaret saved my life. Then we got in a fight. She jumped. I just wanted to reverse time, to save her and to kill me. She didn’t deserve that. I did.
This day reminds me of two very well know sayings: ‘If you love something, set it free; if it comes back it's yours, if it doesn't, it never was’, and ‘love makes you do crazy things’. ‘Love makes you do crazy things’ shows me that Margaret loves me. Don’t ask how I just know. ‘If you love something, set it free; if it comes back it's yours, if it doesn't, it never was’, shows me that I set Margaret free, and she will come back to me, when I die. We will and have always had a bond that shows just how close we are. I love her, and I know she loves me.”

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Speaks

Smith Summer

Wellesley Summer