Happy Anniversary.

This is it.
Breathe.
The soft pad of my finger skimmed the sharp side of my pocket knife. I don't know why anyone thought it was a good idea to give me any sharp objects. It didn't even hurt when the tip nicked the middle of my finger. Crimson beads ran down the sides of the metal blade. I didn't even flinch. The handful of god knows what pills I took an hour ago made me numb inside and out. Of course it wasn't enough to kill me. I would have to do that myself. A salty wetness ran across my lips. I didn't even know why I was crying. This was all I had wanted for the past two years of my life. I didn't have anyone to miss me, and I didn't mean that in the usual angsty teenager way. My parents were hardly home and I was lucky to see them once a week. I kept my head down at school and no one tried to talk to me - not that I wanted them to. Connecting with people was bad. They would interfere. I even kept my best and only friend, Rian, out of my personal life. He didn't want to deal with my problems.
However, I couldn't help but feel bad about not letting a single person know about what I was doing. Suicide notes were so cliché, though. I glanced around my room and saw my laptop sitting on the other side of my bed. Logging on, i went onto one of those anonymous venting sites. I didn't even care enough to see which one it was. Towards the top of the screen, there were two buttons to press: Vent To Strangers or Listen To Strangers. Clicking on the vent option, I was connected in less than a minute.
Stranger: Hey, how are you? I laughed to myself. If I was on here venting, how did they think I was?
You: Kind of crazy, kind of numb.
Stranger: Are you okay? What happened?
You: No, I'm not okay. Life happened.
Stranger: Are you safe?
You: Define safe.
Stranger: Are you going to hurt yourself?
You: Yes. I saw no reason to lie; I had absolutely no idea who this was and they didn't know me. It could be my neighbor or it could be some gamer in Poland. Who knew?
Stranger: Please don't. What can I do to help you not?
You: There's nothing. It's too late for help. Honestly, the only reason I'm here is to say goodbye to someone.
Stranger: Don't, please! There are people who care about you.
You: But there isn't, honestly. I swear. People don't like me; I don't have friends. My parents are rarely home. No one cares about poor little Alex. I hadn't realized I'd actually said my name until I sent it.
Stranger: Alex, I like that name. Mine's Jack. I'm 17, and I live in Baltimore, Maryland (that's in the USA, if you don't know). I like music and I'm a homebody with not a lot of friends. I've struggled with depression, anxiety, self harm, and suicidal thoughts since I was eight when a lot of not good things happened to me. I know what it's like, and I'd love to be your friend. I'm not just saying that. My jaw dropped. We had so much in common, and we lived in the same city.
You: Seriously? I live in Baltimore too and you basically just described my life.
Stranger: I know what you're going through. There's always better options than suicide.
You: But there's nothing left here for me.
Stranger: It's not a lot, but you have me now.
You: But I don't even know you! You could have just made up that entire story, but I would never know because you're a stranger!
Stranger: Then I guess you'll just have to believe me. You could go to my tumblr or something and let me prove to you that I want to be your friend.
You: What's your url?
Stranger: barakat-jagk.
Does this mean you won't kill yourself tonight?
I sighed. Did I really want to go down this road? More likely than not, it would probably end badly and I would fuck it up, putting me back to where I am now. However, there was a small chance that we could actually end up being friends, and god, it would be nice to have a friend.
But I want to die, my brain whined, fighting internally with myself. I wiped frustrated tears running down my face and gripped at my bleached hair. Diediediediedie. The thoughts swirling in my head were so hard to ignore. My body was caving in from trying so hard and my breath was coming in laborious pants.
Stranger: Alex? Promise me you won't do it. I flinched in pain as a tuff of my hair was ripped from my head by my own hand. My eyes were so blurred with tears I could barely see anything. I was reeling for air, as if all of the oxygen in my room had magically turned to poison. Terror was paralyzing me. Was I really this scared to live, or was this the fear of dying?
I will die, soon.
But not tonight.
You: I suppose I won't.
Stranger: Promise me. Really? Did we have to pretend like we were five and promise? Promises are just meant to be broken.
You: I promise.
Stranger: Thank you! I won't make you regret this. What's your url so I can follow you back?
You: the-all-time-loser.
Stranger: Awesome! I'll message you from there, okay?
You: Sure.
Stranger has disconnected.
I sighed, taking my pocket knife and placing it above my wrist. I promised him, or Jack, that I wouldn't kill myself tonight, but it was proving nearly impossible not to do something.
Jagged red lines ran from my left wrist to my elbow by the time I had finished, covering hundreds of scars at different points of healing. The tears were flowing freely now, but at the same time, I felt oddly relieved. This had been just what I needed. However, instantly after, the waves of guilt came over me. They weren't just small waves, either. No, they were huge tidal waves and tsunamis, damaging everything in their path. I had been a month clean from doing this, and even though no one else knew - well, I guess now except for Jack - it still felt like I was a disappointment.
Because you are one.
While I was lost in self-deprecation, a drop of blood fell onto my sheets. "Shit!" I hissed under my breath, running to my bathroom. I couldn't have my room look like a crime scene; sometimes my mom would come in my room during the day and vacuum, and I never knew when she would pop home for a visit. Quickly, through clenched teeth, I rinsed the bloody mess off my arm and covered it in irritating white gauze. I then returned to my room with a towel and a little bit of bleach. After dabbing at my bedsheet for a few minutes, I had decided it was good enough and got ready for bed.
Putting on a long sleeved t-shit to sleep in, just in case my mom actually did come home, I rolled onto my bed, praying she wouldn't see the small, dark red spot, and stared at the wall. As tired as I was, my mind was spinning and sleep couldn't find me. A weight was settling in my stomach that was so heavy it pulled my emotions down with it. I needed a distraction to get rid of this boulder in my chest. I was suffocating. I always got like this around this time of the year. Well, I was like this all the time, but it just got worse when everyone was watching my every move to make sure I was "okay" and I had "moved on".
I had accomplished neither of those things. It's been two damn years, Alexander. You need to move on and grow the fuck up. This is life. That was what my dad had told me when I told him over a year ago I thought I was depressed. My mom agreed when I tried to talk to her.
I never talked about it again. I shut myself away from the world, and didn't tell anyone about...anything, really. Bottling it up was easier. Maybe it was unhealthy, but it was better than the alternative.
Rolling over, I saw glow from my charging phone. I could check tumblr, I decided. Maybe this Jack guy actually followed me or something.
Opening my blog, I went to my notifications. Looking at the latest one, I couldn't help but smile a little bit.
Barakat-jagk followed you.
Maybe he does care.
Next, I checked my inbox. 1 message. One new message that was indeed from barakat-jagk.
Hey! I really did enjoy talking to you. I hope you're okay and I honestly do want to be friends with you. I hope you'll let me. If you don't message me back, I won't try to contact you again. And btw, you're really fucking gorgeous ;)
My breath caught in my throat. Was he flirting with me?
It's not true. Maybe that's what he thought, but it wasn't true in my mind. It seemed like the weight in my stomach was getting even heavier, pulling me deeper and deeper. Did I really want to be friends with this guy? Yes, I think I did. He was nice and he actually cared, unlike everyone else these days. I opened his blog and scrolled down. I mostly saw some selfies of his, guitars, and some really depressing posts. My heart broke for this boy; it was like we were the same. I hated to even think that people could feel the way I do; haunted by the demons swimming in their head day after wretched day.
In the soft glare of my phone, my razor, which I had laid on my nightstand - I should probably move that, no telling how mom would react if she came home - glinted, catching my eye. Maybe just a few more cuts...it'll make the weight go away a little...
No. I couldn't help but feel like Jack would be disappointed. Why do you care how he feels? He doesn't even know you. I countered myself. Thinking of Jack, I knew I should probably respond to him. It would distract me, even if only a few minutes.
I stared at my keyboard for five minutes, trying to put together a string of words that wouldn't make me sound like a complete idiot and/or asshole. How did I even start this?
Hello.
Backspace. Too formal.
Hi!
Backspace. Too peppy.
Hey. I bit my lip. That's how Jack started his message, so I guess it would be okay if I used it too. Thanks for talking me out of it. I would love to keep talking with you. Fair warning, though. I'm kind of bad at the whole friend thing. And um, thank you I guess?
I sent it before I analyzed every part of the message and tried to fix and perfect it and eventually give up and never contact Jack again. For some reason, I didn't want to just kick Jack to the curb. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to talk to him. Open up to him eventually. Really have a friend for once. With Rian, it was different. We never talked about the hard to deal with stuff. Our conversations were lighthearted and truthfully, it was nice to escape my gray world and enter the real world, filled with color and vibrancy and life. However, sometimes no matter how many jokes Rian made, I couldn't find it in me to even fake a smile or laugh. I was absolutely blinded by the gray world and it was impossible to escape. Sometimes, I just needed to be sad and have someone who would be there for me, to talk or listen or just hug me. I had another friend, Vic, and I think he would probably talk to me if I asked, but I couldn't ask him. His...he just hung out with the wrong people, and I had no idea how much he told them. For some reason, I thought Jack could be that person.
Calm down, Alex. You've only known this boy for hours. He could be the biggest douche ever. I prayed he wasn't.
Jack responded exceptionally fast. He must have been waiting for me to answer. I'll talk you out of stupid stuff whenever you need me to. It's okay, I'm kind of bad at the friends thing too, I've never had many. The only person I really talk to about anything is my friend Zack, and I've known him since like kindergarten. And don't sell yourself short, Alex. You're beautiful. You might not think it, but you totally are.
My heartbeat was erratic. No one had ever made me feel this way simply by some words on a computer screen. So, you're gay, then? You don't have to answer that if it makes you uncomfortable.
This guy responded quickly! Yeah, I've known for about three years, but I haven't really come out to anyone yet. My parents are kind of homophobic. Well, a little more than homophobic. More like they'd probably burn me at the stake and call me the devil's child or something. I laughed out loud. I had forgotten how good that felt.
Same here! And I love your hair, btw. And your ear piercing.. Was I really doing this? Flirting with some cute guys over the internet? This was so out of my element, even I couldn't believe it.
Thanks! I'd love to know if you have any piercings or...other...things on your body. Oh god, that was bad. I'm going to sleep off my embarrassment. Damn it. I'm not usually this creepy, I promise. Seriously though, I need sleep. It's too late and I'm old :P My stomach sank a little at the thought of not talking to Jack, but the good thing was I was falling asleep while I was talking to him, and I didn't think I'd have a problem falling asleep now.
Haha omg. That made my night. But goodnight, message me in the morning? :)
I was out before I could check my messages for his response.