Author's note: I hope people understand that depression and suicide are really important issues and more and... Show full author's note »
Chapter 3“Wake up, sleepyhead!” someone says before they chuckle softly.
Somehow this voice haunts me and my eyes snap open. In front of me stands a girl with dyed, bright red hair and matching lipstick. Her mouth curls into a smile.
“Hey,” she says huskily. I sit up so I can see all of her. She’s wearing a “Panic! At the Disco” T-shirt and black tattered jeans I could never pull off. I look at her heavily made up green eyes as they bore into me. A chill travels down my spine and the feeling of guilt takes over.
“Hi,” I reply weakly. She looks unnaturally beautiful with her shocking green eyes and choppy red hair. Her slouch tells you she doesn’t care about anything, while the sparkle in her eyes proves you wrong.
“I got your note,” she says as she tries to give me a reassuring smile. But this does quite the opposite of reassurance.
“Note? The note… Oh my god!” the realization hits me like a block of cement. I sit there with my mouth gaping while she looks at me uncomfortably.
“I—I’m sorry. Was I—should I not have mentioned it?” she asks, as she completely loses her laid-back quality with her nervous banter.
“No—no I just… I forgot about the note. Sorry for freaking out like that,” I say with a nervous laugh.
“That’s okay. Um… so did you not mean what you said in the note? Is that why you… look green?” She looks embarrassed and hurt, all the while trying to hide it with humor, and I feel horrible.
“What? No! I mean, yes. I meant every word I said to you. It’s just… now everyone will read it and know what I think about them…god, my life is so over!” I say, slapping a palm to my forehead. “Ironic, right? My life is over now, and not because I swallowed those pills.” I shake my head feeling scared and nervous, wondering what people will say after they read the note.
Her eyes soften as she says, “No, I get it. You feel like no one cares about you. I’ve felt that way before.”
Guilt is no stranger to me now. I can’t even look at her; I’m so ashamed of myself.
“And I know you meant the note to be read when you were dead, but I guess that’s how that worked out,” she says with a twinge of sarcastic humor.
My faint smile wears away when I think about what else was in that note. But right now this is about Lucia. Not me. “Look Lucia, I’m really sorry of how everyone’s treated you and what they’ve said about you. For years, and years, and years, and you just stood there and took it. I should’ve done something. We were—we were friends and I ditched you because everyone else followed what Melinda said. I’m sorry. I’m an idiot,” I say as I attempt to stay in eye contact with her. It doesn’t work. She can’t help but look away, but not before showing me her broken face. She looks at me after what seems like hours, but it’s only been a few minutes.
“It’s okay,” she says. “Don’t worry about the note. Melinda finally got put in her place, and at least now everyone knows the truth of what you think about them. Everything’s for the better, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. I can handle Analea and even Melinda. I just don’t know what to do about… Hunter,” I say as a blush creeps up on my cheeks.
“Well, I don’t know what you’re going to do about that, but I’m sure everything will work out for the better,” she says with a playful smile. Her mocking cheerfulness is contagious. A smile slowly works its way up on my face. “Now that I’ve got you smiling, I better go. But thank you. For what you said. In the note and today. I hope we could try being friends—again,” she says uncertainly.
I smile and say, “Yeah, and I’m sorry—again.”
Lucia actually smiles with her teeth this time, which is very rare for her, and she walks over to my room’s door. Before leaving, she turns and adds, “You know, you’re not so bad Leia Turner.”
“Neither are you,” I say.
The doorknob turns and the door slams shut with a soft thud, while I’m left there. Just smiling like an idiot. I collapse into my warm hospital bed. I feel happier in these small minutes than I have in months. I fall asleep with a smile plastered onto my face.