Shattered

I didn't care where I ended up tonight, it wasn't important. I just needed a place to interest me for a while. Somewhere I wouldn't be noticed. I wasn't looking for attention, I was looking for one last night of enjoyment. Something to think about, something to make me smile one last time. Where else better than a bar? Even as I mixed in with the drunks I felt off. I felt that I stood out, even when you could see the sadness in their faces, cloaked over their eyes, there was a different look in mine. Maybe it was more than sadness, a certain understanding of defeat, but no one here cared enough to ask.

I sat down at the bar, ignoring the fact that I wasn't old enough to drink. I wasn't here for the liquor anyways. The wood at the counter was worn, beaten from age. I wondered how many bottles had been broken on it, or how many times people slammed their shot glasses down a little too hard. The bartender looked tired as he concentrated on filling up another drink. A burst of laughter and shouting came from every which direction, each holding my gaze for a couple of seconds before I swept my attention else where. My ocean blue eyes scanned the place, and settled on a tall boy getting onto the stage. His brown- nearly blond- hair was shaggy, but short enough so it wasn't in his face. With a guitar slung around his body, a shy smile displayed on his face; he looked nervous. He must be the club's fresh meat. Part of me felt a little nervous for him. He shook hands with announcer, and took a seat in a bar stool while the other man walked off.

The boy was cute. He plucked a couple of strings, barely audible to the half drunken crowd, but I was listening closely. He tuned a couple of keys before taking a deep breath and looking out to the crowd. His eyes widened slightly and he looked down almost immediately. Another deep breath and he closed his eyes. He plucked out a couple of notes, letting them linger into the air. Some of the crowd quieted down. The song picked up pace and hesitantly the teen leaned towards the mic and began singing. His voice was soft, but smooth. The boy's voice genitally caressed each word. And suddenly he picked up on the crowd's energy, his voice became more clear, more confident in selecting his words, still preaching them in a manner that made my heart soar. I wished I had came here before my mind was made up. It might have changed things. But who knew, maybe before this boy hadn't even been here. This could be his first night and coming here before today wouldn't have changed a thing, but maybe it may have changed my mind about killing myself.

The music stopped. The song wasn't complete, but there he was, staring straight out in the crowd, right towards me. His emerald eyes shining with curiosity and concern. Why was he looking at me like that? He didn't know me, but I was sure that that look was for me alone. I turned around and raced towards the bathroom. My heart was trapped in my throat. The look was haunting. It was like he could see right through my facade of pretense. Like he knew what I was going to do. That I didn't want to live any longer, that I didn't see the point in living. That scared me more than death. I didn't want anyone to worry about me. No one had ever worried about me and I wasn't ready to allow it. I had my mind made up, nothing was going to change things and I didn't need someone starting to care. I didn't know why, but this death-my death couldn't wait any longer. I didn't want to be scared of life anymore. I wanted to remember the boy's song, not his stare.

The door was heavy as I reached for it. Two girls appeared on the other side and jumped as I walked in. They giggled and left as I stared after them. They had no idea what was going to happen, but I felt paranoid. It felt like all eyes were on me while I left. I was just waiting for them to say something to me, but they didn't. The world was still going to go on without me.

The bathroom was silent. The people in the bar made background noise behind the closed door. I locked it. I didn't want anyone to come and save me. I didn't need a super hero.

My reflection stared back at me in the smudged mirror. My hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. My makeup wasn't smeared or worn; in fact it looked as fresh as when I put it on earlier. I wore a plain white v-neck, decorated with a heart shaped locket. Unoriginal, but I didn't care. I pulled the elastic band out of my hair and watched as the soft brown curls fell past my shoulder. I ran my hand through it and shook it out a little. Not that it mattered anymore.

My hand shook as I pulled out a razor blade from my pocket. I remembered the boy who was nervous to be on stage and I took a deep breath, just like he did. My friends could make it through without me. This will bring them closer, make them stronger and I would get my way out. Another ragged breath passed my lips and I stared down at my pale wrists. Down, not across. That was the real way to cut. Across was for attention whores, down was reserved for the people who wanted to die.

I pressed the blade into my skin and took a sharp intake of breath as I dragged it across my skin. Deep and painful. The blood was warm as it trickled down my arm. I closed my eyes, taking in the moment, trying to relive the soothing sound of the guitar. It's familiar sound mixed with the sweet voice. I felt tears threatening to come, that lump in my throat forming.

My eyes jerked open at the sound of banging on the door.

"Hey, are you okay in there?" It was the sweet voice of the boy, sounding worried, sounding scared. Did he know? Before he could unlock the door I pulled the blade against the second wrist. My unpolished fingers held onto the sink for support. The cool porcelain felt good against the heat from my hands. I was already feeling dizzy. Blood pooled on the bottom of the floor. Maybe now they'd clean it for once. My legs gave out and I fell to the germ covered tile. My heart beat pounding. It would be over soon.

I could hear shouting from behind the wall; panic. What was going on out there? The door clicked as the lock was unbolted, the boy from the stage ran in. He knelt down by me, picking me up. I must have been pale. Life was escaping me and he was the witness.

"It's going to be okay." Encouraging words left his mouth. I didn't want to be okay, I wanted it to be over. I wasn't even able to say anything before the blackness surrounded me. It was everything and everything else was gone.