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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Teen · #1855210
The actions behind pain and hurt.
She was walking home to her apartment after her school bus dropped her off at the entrance of the complex. The air was warm with a slight breeze. The sun kissed her skin and the shadows of the full trees gave a quick relief as she strode below. She noticed a car turning at the 3-way. It sped past her and she watched as the man in the car glanced her way but turned away just as quickly as he had looked. A squirrel running up a tree had grasped her attention. She watched it as it ran with great speed winding itself up and around the tree and it seemingly disappeared. She was almost home as she crossed the parking lot balancing herself on all the parking chocks frequently losing her balance. The sun shone brightly on the yellow sided apartment,with the green door sticking out creating a horrendous color combination. As she approached her home she leaped up the three stone stairs and flung open the ugly door. No one was home as usual. She went through the living room, the dining room, and the hall until she got to her room, one of the two in the apartment. She set her backpack down on her chair, took off her shoes, proceeded to the kitchen, filled her school water bottle, and raided the kitchen for a snack. It was her usual routine. As she settled down on the loveseat snacking on a peanut butter sandwich she heard her mothers car door slam. She hesitated as to what to do with her sandwich knowing it'd make her mother angry. But she had no time to rid of it, so she continued eating it putting on the front she wasn't trying to hide it. She did the old "act natural" act and nonchalantly snacked, watched TV, and surfed the internet. Her mother came through the door and the second she saw her with the sandwich she started hollering. "How come every time I come through this door you're stuffing your face with something Layla!? Ya know, you wonder why you're so big! You need to stop this! Honey, you need to lose the weight!". She didn't respond as usual. She only watched as her mom staggered on back to the bathroom. She finished up her sandwich as she planned feeling the guilt caused by her mother. She tried to focus her attention on the computer screen as her mother came back out to the living room. "Ya know, you're always saying how you want to be skinny, and you want guys to like you! Well, you are not gonna get anywhere this way that's for sure!". "Mom! I get it!". She screamed back in frustration. "No hon, I don't think you do. If you did you wouldn't of been eating that junk!! Now what do you plan on doing about this. I think it's time for you to go on a walk now. Go on!". And that was that.

I stormed out the door tears threatening to spill burning my eyes. I ran to the playground that was next to the 3-way not looking back. I sat on the swing swinging slowly and gently with horrid thoughts running through my mind. I kept thinking about all the suicide stories I've ever heard. I started thinking of all the ways people could kill themselves. There was the thought of the classic hang, also the classic overdose, all the other creative yet painful deaths too. But the one that stuck out the most, the easiest, usually the quickest, and usually the painless. Running out in front of a tractor trailer on the highway. I looked around hating everything around me. The squirrels that used to bring me joy became an annoyance, and any car that drove by seemed to be the enemy, a killer. My thoughts were becoming the worst of me. I got up suddenly angry and frustrated with the swing, and I started running. I ran out the entrance of the complex and out the entrance of the neighborhood. I was already dripping with sweat. I started running towards the highway passing the food mall, Wendy's, and the diner. I was walking down the exit ramp watching the oncoming cars fly by me. Each driver had their eyes fixed on me probably very curious as to what I was doing. What was I doing exactly? I was walking down the highway with the wind of passing cars lifting my long curly hair. Each car that passed reminded me of a different moment in my life. It was like a timeline of passed events; my life was flashing before my eyes in a literal sense. It was like each car had a picture on it, a picture that replayed the scenes in my life. I saw people in my life that I loved. My best friend for instance. I couldn't get her out of my mind and her reaction to hearing if I was dead. I couldn't do that her, I just couldn't. Could I? Perhaps I could. It was time to let everyone else feel guilty for a change. It's not my fault anymore. I was sick and tired of everyone judging me on my looks all the time. Why can't anyone just realize I'm beautiful!? Why won't they tell me I'm beautiful!? Why are looks the only thing that matter!? Why can't I just be loved!?

I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head. It was pitch black. It took me awhile to realize my eyes were closed. They were crusted shut. Opening them felt like ripping off a scab that was still forming. At first everything was blurry and the light was painful to my recently awakened eyes. But quickly I regained clear sight. I was hooked up to multiple IV's and a monitor measuring my heartbeat. I was in a hospital gown in a hospital room surrounded by flowers, stuffed animals, balloons, and get well soon cards. I further examined the room straining my neck to see beside me. Chairs surrounded my bed, and purses lay on the floor next to the chairs. I assumed people were here, perhaps in the bathroom or grabbing a bite awhile. I looked through the large window which had a grand view of trees and a beautiful garden all surrounding a wonderful fountain spurting water into the air. Everything was white. White walls, white tile floors, white blanket, white doors, white ceiling. It was almost blinding. Distracted by my surroundings I was pulled back into focus by sharp hot pains in my arms, legs, and my back. I looked down at myself realizing my arms, legs, and what seemed like everything but my head was in a cast. My head was bandaged though, I could tell because of the slight tickle of the material on my forehead. The back of my head and neck is what hurt the most. Pain radiated and surged through me the more I thought about it. I wondered what day it was. How long was I asleep? Was I in a coma perhaps? Or was I just asleep for a few hours? I hadn't a clue. I wondered how I even got here, and who had been here to see me. I heard footsteps coming down the hallway outside the door. In came my mother. Her eyes were circled with dark grey and purple, her face was pale grey and wrinkled. Her hair was a mess, sticking out in knots every which way. Her hands grabbed my attention though, they were shaking, shaking as if she were just defrosted but still frozen. She said my name. Hands still shaking she walked to me tears streaming down her face. She cupped my face in her hands and starting crying, crying hard. "I thought you would never wake up. I thought I had lost you.". She held my face kissing my forehead staying there for awhile in silence. "Mom, how long was I asleep?". "Honey, you were in a coma for 3 months.". My stomach dropped, though I was expecting the worst. I wondered what I missed. "Mom, what happened?". "You uh, you...ran in front of a tractor trailer. On the highway.". Her voice choked into a hollow sob. She lay strewn across my broken body weeping into the fabric. My heart sank at the sight. "Mom, I'm alright. It's okay.". But I wasn't sure that it was, was it? "I know honey, I know. I was just so worried!". Her voice choked off into sobs again. Soon people started arriving at random. My aunts and uncles and grandparents and sisters came all at once. And a little later my best friends came through instantly crying at the sight of me awake. "You guys, you guys, I'm alright, please just don't cry. I can't take it.". No one said much. They all just sympathized at once kind of, no one really knew what to say. And neither did I. I caused everyone so much hurt, so much pain, imagine what I'd of done if I died. It was selfish what I did. So selfish, I was just running away from my problems and the world. I was a coward.

"So, Layla, why did you do it?". My best friend asked me in a very careful tone. It was about 2 years later. We were now seniors in high school. "I, I don't really know. All I know is that I was a coward, and selfish. All I did was try to run from my problems. I was just overwhelmed. I couldn't take it anymore.". "Layla, you are not a coward, you are the strongest, bravest person I know.". "Well, I guess I'll just consider myself lucky. I'm surprised I can even walk. Sarah, I wanted to die. I thought that truck would have killed me! I wanted to leave this world. I wanted to get away from myself. I was hurting, Sarah. I was hurting.". "Layla, you don't have to hurt anymore. You are stronger than you have ever been. You need to realize you mean so much to so many people.". "I know, Sarah, I know. I just...I just can't believe I caused everyone so much pain. It was selfish!". "Layla, you were hurting. You couldn't help the way you were feeling! It's not your fault! You need to let the guilt go. We aren't ashamed of you, we aren't disappointed. You need to feel free.". I thought about her words, and I knew they were true. My mind told me they were true but my heart was still drowned in the sorrow and guilt.

"Well, Layla, you have certainly made progress. All we have to do is run one more cat scan just to make sure your head is completely okay and you can head home. Once we get the results and they are clean you are free from here until your annual checkup.". My doctor grinned at me with a cheesy smile, though it reassured me that he said "..and they are clean...". I was confident I was fine, but hey, you got to do what you got to do. My mom and I left the doctors office after the cat scan and we headed home.

Days went by waiting for word on the cat scan results. Part of me was fine and confident, but the other part of me was paranoid and worried. I didn't know exactly what would happen. It was about 2 weeks later and word got back. And like I thought, I was fine. Relief and joy flooded my family, friends, and myself. Because I attempted suicide counseling was a must for me, even though I knew myself I wouldn't try anything. I already regretted what I had done. My life went on though. I was closer to everyone in my life more than ever. I never took anything or anyone for granted ever again. I appreciated life and all the aspects in it. I loved life, everything in it, and myself. For once I loved myself. I was free.
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