A Suicide's Prelude | Teen Ink

A Suicide's Prelude

October 5, 2010
By LiteraryJustice PLATINUM, Alexandria, Virginia
LiteraryJustice PLATINUM, Alexandria, Virginia
45 articles 0 photos 2 comments

And as I sit there, reading the note that you’d left me, a thousand thoughts destitute of hope, running through my mind, I find myself toying with your necklace that still hangs heavy around my neck.

I’d always worn it... ever since that warm August evening when you’d bestowed it upon me during our forbidden, summer meeting— just as we parted ways.

But I’d never been known to fiddle with things, even when stressed. With your chain and pendant it was different though. I found myself reaching for it when I was jaded or melancholy. When I was thrilled, I’d pull at the smooth, silvery chain, when I was irate, I’d clutch at the ornament... and when I held that cold knife’s blade to my warm flesh, right where the blood pulsed heaviest in my wrists, it was your necklace that swung almost annoyingly directly into my field of vision as if to say: remember... somebody loves you.

Even now, as I sit in my dimly lit room and chew at the skin of my inner cheek—though we had “fought” I still find my fingers enclosed, shaking, around your medallion. I unconsciously become aware of the cool metal now rapidly gaining warmth by the conductance of my warm hand.

Smooth and always present; how it reminds me of you.

I blink once; nonchalant tears forming at the corners of my eyes as your warm words slowly sink in. A strange hybrid of gratitude and aggravation sweep through my body briefly and for a fleeting moment it is not your words but my parents’ words that ring loudest in my mind. Dully, I kick them to the side and try to focus on the meaning in your heartfelt letter though concepts like “love” and “acceptance” are hard to accept in a world so strongly governed by hate.

With trembling hands, I fold your letter neatly, using the same creases you had and stuff it into the front pocket of my jeans. I fold my arms across my chest and lean back, staring at the large blue sky above me that suddenly seems all the brighter.

“What a strange world we live in,” I think to myself plainly as a strong wind knocks the note from my pocket and onto the ground.

“Live to be the blessing you are,” is the most prominent line as it has been emphasized in darker writing. I swallow hard, letting the meaning sink in.

“What a strange world indeed.”

The necklace concurs.

The author's comments:
Never forget the people who love you in this world. This piece was written for one of the people I hold closest to my heart and I know no matter what, I can always count on them.

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