Heart ache

By , springvalley, IL
I really don't remember reaching into the medicine cabinet or grabbing the aspirin. I wasn't scared or excited, I was dead. Sitting at the breakfast table with my friends at school I grabbed the beautiful snowflake white pills out of my pocket, but I couldn't get the child proof cape undone. I turned to my friend Matt. Before I could say a word
He said 'wow you look dead.' I smiled faintly; he had no idea how right he was.
'I have a headache. Can you open these please?' I felt bad for lying but not bad enough to stop and not do what I was about to do. The lid popped open, and the pills falling into my hands sounded heavenly. All I was thinking is I'll be out of this hell and all my troubles will go away, all the pain will stop and maybe I'll have some peace. I was entranced with the pills, counting 1'2'.3'so on. I stop counting at fifty-six. I emptied the full bottle of pills into my mouth.

'Must be one big headache,' Matt said with a smile on his face. To be happy like him I thought.
'Headache'.heartache, same thing, its called life.' I mumbled.

By lunch I was dizzy, shaking, and had no idea what people were talking about. I couldn't keep what people were saying to me straight if my life depended on it. The principal was next to me, I could have sworn he was just over at the other side of the room. S*** I thought. I was finally so happy- the happiest I'd been in years. I thought all my troubles were over.

'The nurse would like to see you right now.' The principle's hard black stare didn't intimidate me , I'm guessing the glare I gave him didn't intimidate him either because he just pointed to the nurses office right across the hall way. Someone must have told on me. I thought.

I stumbled into the nurse's office. I couldn't remember why I why I was there. I just remembered entering through the first door.

'I heard you took a lot of pills. Why?' She asked peering into an already broken soul.

'I 'I just had a headache.' I stammered hoping she would just let this go.
'What did you take and how much?' she said with a frosty crack I could tell she really didn't like people taking up her time, let alone a depressed teenager who had 'just leave me the F alone' plastered across her forehead.
She's not letting this go. I thought. 'I took twelve '. Um'um ' I can't remember.' I hung my head; I really couldn't remember.
'Go get them,' she said flatly. I turned and walked out of the room. For a minute, I thought of bolting out the door running down into the woods and sitting, waiting for the poisoned blood to take effect but with my luck the cops would catch me less than a mile away from the school. I reached my locker grabbed the pills. I couldn't concentrate hard enough to read the bottle. I walked as slowly as I could back from my locker. I handed the pill bottle to the nurse unable to control my shaking hands; they were trembling so intensely that I could barely give them to her. The nurse looked at the computer for a minute.
'I think I'm fine. Can I go back to class?' I said.
'No' you're already showing signs missive overdose ' I'm calling your mom to take you to the hospital.' She once again glared at me. I went to retrieve my things, from my locker but I stopped at my friend's class on the way. I asked the teacher if I could speak with her. He was going to object, but something in her eyes and mine made him say yes. She walked out of class when I looked into her eyes I saw she already new.
'Krista'' I stumbled on my words; what was I suppose to say to my best friend, the one that gave up art classes and dance rehearsals for me a low 'life- self. I finally got the rest of my sentence out. 'I want you to have this.' I reached up for my necklace that my grandmother gave me. My trembling hands made unclasping impossible, so I just grasped it and jerked it off of my neck. 'This is what I want Krista. Don't be sad or upset.' I meant to sound strong but my voice faltered. I walked down to the office and stared out of the window waiting for what I still don't know ' death'hope, or maybe I was waiting to be loved.
When we arrived to the E.R., my mom was glaring at me in the way that had
pushed me over the edge earlier. 'You're such a stupid little bitch, Laura now I have to take time out of my day for your sorry ass.' She got in my face and I flinched away Thinking she'd hit me again. I looked away trying not to seem scared of her. I started thinking about her how she had been hitting and screaming at me for the past three years. That's all she had been doing since we moved here.
I can't remember the conversation well like what the doctor said to me. I just remember him asking me why and my reply.
'I just wanted the pain in my shoulder to stop.' It wasn't a lie I have tendonitis in my right shoulder.
The only other thing I remember from that day is watching them take my blood and how it was dark'too dark. When I saw the doctor look at the overly thick blood I knew I was poisoned.
Apparently, I was four times above overdose, so they admitted me into the I.C.U. When I finally got some time alone, I started cursing - not to anyone in particular 'maybe to fate. 'God, I was so close why do my plans always get interfered with. Damnit, I was so freakin ready to die.'
I remember things that pushed me that day. Things that pushed me so hard to the edge. I always remember the growing blackness being apart of my life and with each incident it began to eat away at me. On top of that, a screaming mother, new sister and having what I know now was a bipolar disorder.
Later when my step dad visited he said 'I could slap you.' He didn't of course but it stung like he did. He also didn't mean it; he was trying to get me to see what I did to other people around me. I understand this now, but a big issue I had with myself is that I wasn't perfect, like my mother always wanted me to be. I had come to wish I could be perfect even at just one thing which is impossible.
The second day was such a blur I still can't remember anything from it. I know my mom was there for an hour. I was messed up from all the pills I took I couldn't funk shin.
During my third day in the hospital my friend Jessica strolled in. She looked like she hadn't slept. She was worried- very worried. 'I thought when I came here I was going to see a body'' Her head was down, I thought she was about to cry. ''Do you know how bad Matt feels? He blames himself. And you should see Krista -she looks horrible. I convinced her not to come today I didn't know how bad you would look.' She held my hand; it was yellow against her white one. 'I talked to your mom she said the doctor told her you went into convulsions last night. Something about how the pills seemed to hit you all at once.' She looked down; I hadn't known I went into convulsions. 'I got to go my moms here to pick me up.' she walked out of the room. She barely made it out of the room before she started crying.
I caused her so much pain but what about the pain others had pushed on me. I remember the time someone yelled 'Hey, gay girl!' The response I gave was normal I turned around to see who had called to me. At the same split second someone something sharp jabbed into my arm. I ran into the bathroom thinking it was I accident when I saw the pencil sticking out of my arm, but as I pulled the pencil out there was masking tape around the pencil. It said 'NO FAGS ALLOWED'. I skipped that hour. I just sat in the stall looking at that pencil. I was snapped out of the memory by a nurse taking my blood she left a tunicate on the counter of my room. I thought about strangling myself with it I still don't know why I didn't. I've just always wanted to be able to have a peaceful last breath. By the fourth day my mom had found out from Krista that I was trying to kill my self, My mother just stared at me coldly, the whole time. They kept me one more day before my mom practically busted me out.
I went to therapy for a while after that. Recently, after a lot of work, I've come to realize many things: one of which is people look for perfection in everything not realizing everything is perfect because it exists. Even though many people would regret doing something so 'stupid,' I don't. If I hadn't I wouldn't be the person I am today. I think I would be that same sad, lonely little girl huddled in the corner because of what people had done to her.





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