Letters From Oblivion
Shiloh
(There is a bit of pov switching in this chapter. After the first break, it’s all Shiloh.)
October 24th, 2004
Sometimes I wonder why I even bother.
Kathryn’s eyes watered as she read the first sentence of her mother’s first journal. Shiloh couldn’t have been older than sixteen when she wrote this. Her life was just beginning, but she seemed so ready to end it. That one sentence already helped Kathryn understand her mother more. Shiloh always put on a smile for her children. Never did they doubt Shiloh was anything but loving and happy. Kathryn wiped her eyes and continued to read.
Doctor Morgan told me to keep a journal because seeing my thoughts on paper will make them seem silly.
Bull-fucking-shit.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
“I know you’re hurting, Shiloh,” My mother, Kathy, whispered as she sat on the edge of my bed, “you can’t lock yourself away, though.”
I let out a pitiful sob. “He’s gone, mom! Alex is gone! He’s my best friend and he left me in this god-forsaken world!”
“I know, sweet pea,” she whispered softly.
I buried my face in the pillow and continued to sob and sniffle. “He made me promise not to leave him! He saved my life, only to take his own! Why would he do that? Why couldn’t I have been faster! If I was faster, I could have saved him!” I practically screamed into my pillow.
My mother ran her hand through my shoulder length blonde hair and, thankfully, stayed silent as she let me grieve and weep and scream as if I was on fire.
It felt as if I was though. It felt as if my heart had been torn out of my chest. Is this what heartbreak feels like?
I didn’t care for Alex romantically and he didn’t care for me romantically. We were the best of friends, practically attached at the hip.
I tried to take my own life four months ago, but he found my note earlier than I expected. Alex rushed to my house and found me with an empty vicodin bottle and bloody, self-inflicted slashes across various parts of my body. When I woke up, he made me promise I would never leave him. He said that we were in this together.
He couldn’t follow his own advice.
I found his note when I got home; he had stuck it in my backpack. Reading over it quickly, I rushed to his house only to find him hanging from his ceiling fan with a toppled chair not too far away.
I will never forget him hanging there. It will forever be burned in my memory. His shining chocolate eyes had become dull, blank, and lifeless. His skin was pale and cold. And he just swung from the rope when I touched his body.
Every memory I have of him has become tainted. I can’t remember what he looks like alive. All I see is his lifeless eyes and swinging body and cold skin.
Thinking of this, I began to sob harder into my pillow. My small body was shaking, my eyes stung, my nose was running.
It didn’t matter, though, because no amount of tears, runny noses, and powerful sobs would take those images from my mind.
And no matter how much I wished this was a bad dream, it wasn’t.
Alex was never coming back.
October 24th, 2004
Sometimes I wonder why I even bother.
Kathryn’s eyes watered as she read the first sentence of her mother’s first journal. Shiloh couldn’t have been older than sixteen when she wrote this. Her life was just beginning, but she seemed so ready to end it. That one sentence already helped Kathryn understand her mother more. Shiloh always put on a smile for her children. Never did they doubt Shiloh was anything but loving and happy. Kathryn wiped her eyes and continued to read.
Doctor Morgan told me to keep a journal because seeing my thoughts on paper will make them seem silly.
Bull-fucking-shit.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
“I know you’re hurting, Shiloh,” My mother, Kathy, whispered as she sat on the edge of my bed, “you can’t lock yourself away, though.”
I let out a pitiful sob. “He’s gone, mom! Alex is gone! He’s my best friend and he left me in this god-forsaken world!”
“I know, sweet pea,” she whispered softly.
I buried my face in the pillow and continued to sob and sniffle. “He made me promise not to leave him! He saved my life, only to take his own! Why would he do that? Why couldn’t I have been faster! If I was faster, I could have saved him!” I practically screamed into my pillow.
My mother ran her hand through my shoulder length blonde hair and, thankfully, stayed silent as she let me grieve and weep and scream as if I was on fire.
It felt as if I was though. It felt as if my heart had been torn out of my chest. Is this what heartbreak feels like?
I didn’t care for Alex romantically and he didn’t care for me romantically. We were the best of friends, practically attached at the hip.
I tried to take my own life four months ago, but he found my note earlier than I expected. Alex rushed to my house and found me with an empty vicodin bottle and bloody, self-inflicted slashes across various parts of my body. When I woke up, he made me promise I would never leave him. He said that we were in this together.
He couldn’t follow his own advice.
I found his note when I got home; he had stuck it in my backpack. Reading over it quickly, I rushed to his house only to find him hanging from his ceiling fan with a toppled chair not too far away.
I will never forget him hanging there. It will forever be burned in my memory. His shining chocolate eyes had become dull, blank, and lifeless. His skin was pale and cold. And he just swung from the rope when I touched his body.
Every memory I have of him has become tainted. I can’t remember what he looks like alive. All I see is his lifeless eyes and swinging body and cold skin.
Thinking of this, I began to sob harder into my pillow. My small body was shaking, my eyes stung, my nose was running.
It didn’t matter, though, because no amount of tears, runny noses, and powerful sobs would take those images from my mind.
And no matter how much I wished this was a bad dream, it wasn’t.
Alex was never coming back.