Magenta
January 15th, 2011, 05:22 PM
She heard the rain pounding on her window. Inside the room, the lights flickered. The room went dark for a moment, and silent, until Jean heard the whir of the power coming back on and the lights filled her room again.
It was early in the morning, much earlier than any person should have ever been awake. Jean sat on her bed and turned her head so she was staring at the little droplets that were throwing themselves at the glass pane. She could not see past the steady stream of water that poured from the sky outside. It was raining that hard. It was never ending, Jean thought.
Jean used to like the rain. Now it depressed her. The rain held memories. The memories came about only in the darkness, however, which was why the lights were on and Jean was praying that the power would not go out again. She was not ready to face the darkness just yet.
But even with the lights on, she could feel the emotions welling up. The sadness, the anger, the disappointment, all stuck in her heart because they were trapped there until Jean learned to accept all of them and let them go. She could feel the memories as if she was living them again and she tried to make herself smaller. Jean curled up in a ball on her bed, hugging her knees to her chest, tugging her hair between her fingers which clawed at her head. Why? Why could she never sleep?
The lights were not even off yet and things were getting back. Jean did not want the voices to show up. They had before and it was never pretty. They would not leave her alone. Jean knew now that they would appear because she had thought about them. She could already hear hints of them. Their hissing and terrifying whispers were starting to invade her head. She could not hear their words just yet but she could predict them.
They were about Gemma.
Jean missed Gemma tremendously. She had never been so lonely in her life before Gemma died. Gemma was gone. She was not coming back. Jean was having a hard time accepting this. The voices came and repeated her last conversation with Gemma and told her how she would never hear Gemma's voice ever again.
'Gemma, why did you leave me?'
It was one year ago, when Gemma took her own life. She and Jean had both just turned fifteen years old. Jean had been thrilled because her family was finally lifting some of the restrictions on where she could go and how late she could be out. Gemma was not happy at all even though they had the same birthday.
There could not have been two more opposite reactions towards the same day.
Jean had never tried to ask Gemma what was wrong. The two girls left school that day and went their separate ways and Jean had no idea that she would never see Gemma again. She did not know that Gemma had been planning to take her own life for a month now. Gemma had never told her.
Jean had been told by Gemma's parents what really happened, after going to school the next day hearing rumours. She had not wanted to believe any of them but the principal had pulled her into the school's office before class even started.
He told Jean that Gemma was dead.
Her best friend was gone.
She was allowed to go home for the rest of the day. The school had called her parents to take her home but Jean did not want to. She wanted to go to Gemma's house. Her parents tried to stop her, saying Gemma's family needed space, but she was planning on walking if they would not drive her.
When they got there, Gemma's family did not mind. They considered Jean family as well. They had had a feeling already that Jean would be by.
Outside Gemma's house, the police cars were still parked. The ambulance was long gone, having taken Gemma to the hospital the night before. She had died there.
She died from an overdose of forty four Advil, Gemma's parents told Jean. Jean refused to believe it. Gemma would not do that. Gemma had promised that she and Jean would be friends forever and ever. They would never be separated. Not by forty four Advil.
Not by anything.
Gemma's parents told her how they had found her on the living room rug when they got home from work. Just lying there, still and breathless. They said she could have just been sleeping, had her chest been moving. She had looked so peaceful, they told Jean. But they knew that inside, moments before her world went black and slipped away, she was far from being at peace.
Jean never knew of the turmoil Gemma had felt. Her parents had no idea either. No one would ever know what drove Gemma to the edge, what caused her to swallow those forty four Advil. Jean wondered if she tried to take them all at once. She could not have, Jean supposed. Had she taken them one at a time and felt her body slowly slipping away from her? How had she been able to take those last four? Would her body not be so numb from the other forty? Would she not have had trouble getting the pills into her mouth? Had she decided to ditch the glass of water her parents found next to her and just swallowed them dry?
Jean would never know.
Jean wished she had been there in Gemma's last moments. She wished she could have done something to stop her best friend. Could she have made her stop? If not, could she have prevented her from taking such a lethal dose? Maybe she could have just taken ten and ended up in the hospital. At least she would still be alive. Jean would never have the chance to go back in time to see.
Later, her parents let her go to the hospital. Jean did not know why she had wanted to go there. Gemma's body was no longer there. But Jean wanted to see the room Gemma had been in for her last moments of life. She wondered if Gemma was aware of what was going on. Had she known she was in the ambulance? Had she known she was still alive by the time she was in the hospital? Did she intend on dying there? Probably not, with forty four Advil. She was probably hoping she would die on the living room floor. But she had hung on just long enough. Maybe she had been hoping for a second chance? Maybe she had regretted her decision in those last moments? Jean would never know.
The halls of the hospital smelled too sterile. They should have smelled of death. They should have smelled of Gemma. They smelled too clean, as if Gemma had never been there. Jean was numb. She could not feel anything. She only wanted to feel one thing... a hug from Gemma, the touch of Gemma's hand on hers or even just feel Gemma's presence, possibly lingering in this hall for just a few seconds too long. But Jean never felt any of those things.
Jean remembered falling to her knees in the hospital corridor that was so empty. It was empty of everything, just like her head. She was even emptying herself of the tears she had been trying to hold in. She had been hoping, in some sort of denial, that she would find Gemma okay and well and she would have to hide her tears. But she was not going to find Gemma and Gemma would never see her cry if she did now.
Maybe Gemma, somewhere in another plane of existance or Heaven or some place like that, would see her cry. Maybe she would feel guilty for hurting everyone the way she did. She would regret her decision... but then Jean felt guilty. She wanted Gemma to be happy wherever she was now. It was not her place to try and guilt her. Obviously she had been desperate enough the night before to try such a thing, so there was no point in torturing her even more.
A nurse found Jean in the hallway. She silently guided Jean out of the empty corridor and into a waiting area. She asked for Jean's home phone number so she could phone Jean's parents for her. Jean thought the nurse was very nice. Later, she ended up wishing she could have said thank you.
Jean went home with a heavy heart. A heavy heart that never went away.
A year later, Jean was still troubled- more than troubled- over Gemma's suicide. Other things had happened. Her family had fallen apart, her friends had grown bored with her depression and she had no way to get help.
She suddenly understood Gemma's desperation. She knew what it felt like. She wished she could tell Gemma this. She had been considering the only way she could. She wondered if she could hurt others the way Gemma had hurt her. But would she? Gemma had people who cared about her. Jean felt like she did not. All she wanted was to see Gemma again.
It took a week for Jean to make her decision. She went to school, did her work, went to her part time job like usual, not hinting at anything she was planning. She would not let anyone in but people already knew this. They ignored all the warning signs. Just like Jean had with Gemma... or had she? She had never noticed any warning signs.
One night, when Jean got home, she sat down on her bed again. Like the first night she relived the memories, it was raining. The sound was neither calming or frightening. She remembered the sleep overs where she and Gemma had stayed up listening to the rain. She knew she would end it tonight.
She let the room blur around her and the sides of her vision darken and her limbs become numb as one by one, she took them. She felt like she and Gemma had become one. She could feel Gemma next to her, holding her hand, begging her to reconsider. But Jean did not want to. She just wanted to be with Gemma. When Gemma realized this, she sighed and relented. She then pulled Jean into her arms one last time as Jean closed her eyes, taking the last one.
And then she was gone, lying on the bed with her hands on her chest, holding the imaginary arms wrapped around her.
The forty four Advil had done their job one more time.
--
This is certainly not my best work... I barely remember writing it. There's actually two more parts to this...
It was early in the morning, much earlier than any person should have ever been awake. Jean sat on her bed and turned her head so she was staring at the little droplets that were throwing themselves at the glass pane. She could not see past the steady stream of water that poured from the sky outside. It was raining that hard. It was never ending, Jean thought.
Jean used to like the rain. Now it depressed her. The rain held memories. The memories came about only in the darkness, however, which was why the lights were on and Jean was praying that the power would not go out again. She was not ready to face the darkness just yet.
But even with the lights on, she could feel the emotions welling up. The sadness, the anger, the disappointment, all stuck in her heart because they were trapped there until Jean learned to accept all of them and let them go. She could feel the memories as if she was living them again and she tried to make herself smaller. Jean curled up in a ball on her bed, hugging her knees to her chest, tugging her hair between her fingers which clawed at her head. Why? Why could she never sleep?
The lights were not even off yet and things were getting back. Jean did not want the voices to show up. They had before and it was never pretty. They would not leave her alone. Jean knew now that they would appear because she had thought about them. She could already hear hints of them. Their hissing and terrifying whispers were starting to invade her head. She could not hear their words just yet but she could predict them.
They were about Gemma.
Jean missed Gemma tremendously. She had never been so lonely in her life before Gemma died. Gemma was gone. She was not coming back. Jean was having a hard time accepting this. The voices came and repeated her last conversation with Gemma and told her how she would never hear Gemma's voice ever again.
'Gemma, why did you leave me?'
It was one year ago, when Gemma took her own life. She and Jean had both just turned fifteen years old. Jean had been thrilled because her family was finally lifting some of the restrictions on where she could go and how late she could be out. Gemma was not happy at all even though they had the same birthday.
There could not have been two more opposite reactions towards the same day.
Jean had never tried to ask Gemma what was wrong. The two girls left school that day and went their separate ways and Jean had no idea that she would never see Gemma again. She did not know that Gemma had been planning to take her own life for a month now. Gemma had never told her.
Jean had been told by Gemma's parents what really happened, after going to school the next day hearing rumours. She had not wanted to believe any of them but the principal had pulled her into the school's office before class even started.
He told Jean that Gemma was dead.
Her best friend was gone.
She was allowed to go home for the rest of the day. The school had called her parents to take her home but Jean did not want to. She wanted to go to Gemma's house. Her parents tried to stop her, saying Gemma's family needed space, but she was planning on walking if they would not drive her.
When they got there, Gemma's family did not mind. They considered Jean family as well. They had had a feeling already that Jean would be by.
Outside Gemma's house, the police cars were still parked. The ambulance was long gone, having taken Gemma to the hospital the night before. She had died there.
She died from an overdose of forty four Advil, Gemma's parents told Jean. Jean refused to believe it. Gemma would not do that. Gemma had promised that she and Jean would be friends forever and ever. They would never be separated. Not by forty four Advil.
Not by anything.
Gemma's parents told her how they had found her on the living room rug when they got home from work. Just lying there, still and breathless. They said she could have just been sleeping, had her chest been moving. She had looked so peaceful, they told Jean. But they knew that inside, moments before her world went black and slipped away, she was far from being at peace.
Jean never knew of the turmoil Gemma had felt. Her parents had no idea either. No one would ever know what drove Gemma to the edge, what caused her to swallow those forty four Advil. Jean wondered if she tried to take them all at once. She could not have, Jean supposed. Had she taken them one at a time and felt her body slowly slipping away from her? How had she been able to take those last four? Would her body not be so numb from the other forty? Would she not have had trouble getting the pills into her mouth? Had she decided to ditch the glass of water her parents found next to her and just swallowed them dry?
Jean would never know.
Jean wished she had been there in Gemma's last moments. She wished she could have done something to stop her best friend. Could she have made her stop? If not, could she have prevented her from taking such a lethal dose? Maybe she could have just taken ten and ended up in the hospital. At least she would still be alive. Jean would never have the chance to go back in time to see.
Later, her parents let her go to the hospital. Jean did not know why she had wanted to go there. Gemma's body was no longer there. But Jean wanted to see the room Gemma had been in for her last moments of life. She wondered if Gemma was aware of what was going on. Had she known she was in the ambulance? Had she known she was still alive by the time she was in the hospital? Did she intend on dying there? Probably not, with forty four Advil. She was probably hoping she would die on the living room floor. But she had hung on just long enough. Maybe she had been hoping for a second chance? Maybe she had regretted her decision in those last moments? Jean would never know.
The halls of the hospital smelled too sterile. They should have smelled of death. They should have smelled of Gemma. They smelled too clean, as if Gemma had never been there. Jean was numb. She could not feel anything. She only wanted to feel one thing... a hug from Gemma, the touch of Gemma's hand on hers or even just feel Gemma's presence, possibly lingering in this hall for just a few seconds too long. But Jean never felt any of those things.
Jean remembered falling to her knees in the hospital corridor that was so empty. It was empty of everything, just like her head. She was even emptying herself of the tears she had been trying to hold in. She had been hoping, in some sort of denial, that she would find Gemma okay and well and she would have to hide her tears. But she was not going to find Gemma and Gemma would never see her cry if she did now.
Maybe Gemma, somewhere in another plane of existance or Heaven or some place like that, would see her cry. Maybe she would feel guilty for hurting everyone the way she did. She would regret her decision... but then Jean felt guilty. She wanted Gemma to be happy wherever she was now. It was not her place to try and guilt her. Obviously she had been desperate enough the night before to try such a thing, so there was no point in torturing her even more.
A nurse found Jean in the hallway. She silently guided Jean out of the empty corridor and into a waiting area. She asked for Jean's home phone number so she could phone Jean's parents for her. Jean thought the nurse was very nice. Later, she ended up wishing she could have said thank you.
Jean went home with a heavy heart. A heavy heart that never went away.
A year later, Jean was still troubled- more than troubled- over Gemma's suicide. Other things had happened. Her family had fallen apart, her friends had grown bored with her depression and she had no way to get help.
She suddenly understood Gemma's desperation. She knew what it felt like. She wished she could tell Gemma this. She had been considering the only way she could. She wondered if she could hurt others the way Gemma had hurt her. But would she? Gemma had people who cared about her. Jean felt like she did not. All she wanted was to see Gemma again.
It took a week for Jean to make her decision. She went to school, did her work, went to her part time job like usual, not hinting at anything she was planning. She would not let anyone in but people already knew this. They ignored all the warning signs. Just like Jean had with Gemma... or had she? She had never noticed any warning signs.
One night, when Jean got home, she sat down on her bed again. Like the first night she relived the memories, it was raining. The sound was neither calming or frightening. She remembered the sleep overs where she and Gemma had stayed up listening to the rain. She knew she would end it tonight.
She let the room blur around her and the sides of her vision darken and her limbs become numb as one by one, she took them. She felt like she and Gemma had become one. She could feel Gemma next to her, holding her hand, begging her to reconsider. But Jean did not want to. She just wanted to be with Gemma. When Gemma realized this, she sighed and relented. She then pulled Jean into her arms one last time as Jean closed her eyes, taking the last one.
And then she was gone, lying on the bed with her hands on her chest, holding the imaginary arms wrapped around her.
The forty four Advil had done their job one more time.
--
This is certainly not my best work... I barely remember writing it. There's actually two more parts to this...