Suicide in the Cave
Jasper Nichols was my best friend and I was his. Jasper had a horrible childhood. His parents were constantly at each other’s throats and his dad left him with a scar on his face.
When we were eight we snuck threw the lose fence in his back garden into the forest. We walked and walked until we found a small quaint lake next to which was a small cave. The cave became our den, our second home. We spent hours in it playing and talking.
As we grew up we still went to the cave, nearly everyday we went together. We did this for eight years; until my 16th birthday. When I was 16 my parents sent me away from everything I loved: the town, my house, them, my brother, my dog Rufus and of course Jasper. My parents sent me to boarding school, it was decided before I was born that I had to go because it was family tradition. After several fights which resulted in me getting grounded and after multiple teenage strops I packed my bags and said goodbye to Jasper for two years.
When I returned everything had changed. My mother wouldn't let me out of the house for the first week, just so I could 'adjust' to the house again. Then when that week was over she sat me down and spoke of terrible truths that shattered my heart and tore at my sole. She told me that when I was away Jasper was sent to a mental hospital for 5 months for suicide attempts. She told me he was a wreck, and that he wasn't talking to anyone. She told me that she had only seen him a few times when I was away and she told me he looked like death. His skin was the palest of whites and he looked exhausted. She told me that he was just skin and bone because he didn't eat.
It was my entire fault. I could have stopped him. But instead I went to that fucking boarding school. I left him. It was my fault.
When we were eight we snuck threw the lose fence in his back garden into the forest. We walked and walked until we found a small quaint lake next to which was a small cave. The cave became our den, our second home. We spent hours in it playing and talking.
As we grew up we still went to the cave, nearly everyday we went together. We did this for eight years; until my 16th birthday. When I was 16 my parents sent me away from everything I loved: the town, my house, them, my brother, my dog Rufus and of course Jasper. My parents sent me to boarding school, it was decided before I was born that I had to go because it was family tradition. After several fights which resulted in me getting grounded and after multiple teenage strops I packed my bags and said goodbye to Jasper for two years.
When I returned everything had changed. My mother wouldn't let me out of the house for the first week, just so I could 'adjust' to the house again. Then when that week was over she sat me down and spoke of terrible truths that shattered my heart and tore at my sole. She told me that when I was away Jasper was sent to a mental hospital for 5 months for suicide attempts. She told me he was a wreck, and that he wasn't talking to anyone. She told me that she had only seen him a few times when I was away and she told me he looked like death. His skin was the palest of whites and he looked exhausted. She told me that he was just skin and bone because he didn't eat.
It was my entire fault. I could have stopped him. But instead I went to that fucking boarding school. I left him. It was my fault.