TRIGGER WARNING: GRAPHIC SCENE, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS.

10th Grade: August 1, 2018

Abby's POV

School was over. Students are roaming in the corridors, shouting each other's names. I cringed a bit at their loud noise before putting on my earphones and listened to the music from my mp3 player. Faint by Linkin Park. Hmm... how appropriate.

I sighed, getting tired of all the noise despite the music so I decided to go home. I picked up my bag from the floor and made my way to the gate, passing by happily chatting students. I look at them a bit wistfully, wishing that I was like them.

I bought some drink outside of school (some weird mixture of ice, graham, condensed milk and small marshmallows) before I crossed the street, waiting for a jeepney to arrive. When it did, I rode into it on the way to my home place.

Upon arriving home I did not see anyone. I shrugged, thinking that they're just away, as it was the instance most of the time. I just went straight to my room and fixed myself up. After that, I went to the dining room to get myself a bite to eat. However, a note on the refrigerator caught my eye. Forgetting about getting food, I took the note to the living room, sat down, and began to read.

We won't be coming back to that house anymore. Live your life like you're ought to. 

Live, breathe, eat, die, we won't care anymore. Because we never did before. Now, if you're thinking that this is all a fluke, suit yourself. We won't, and will never come back to that house as long as you inhabit it. You're a poison to this family. You're the reason why they died, keep that in mind.

It was short, but it had a big impact on me. For the first time, I was truly alone. And I feared being truly alone. No, I thought. This can't be happening. I suddenly couldn't breathe. My mind was a big mess. They're right. I'm the poison in this family, killing everyone one by one. (Start of graphic scene) I grabbed the pocket knife in my jacket, something that I always bring wherever I go. Crying, I unsheathed it, and made a deep cut on my left wrist. I don't deserve to live, not after what I've done to them. Another cut. I'm just a freak, I can't do anything right. Another cut. Four cuts, five cuts, six cuts. I've lost count of how many cuts I've made and when I switch from my left wrist to my right to my calves. And then I threw the knife beside be and screamed. I screamed my lungs out. I raked my sharp nails up and down my arm and dug them to my face, but not deep enough to make a wound. I screamed and cried as I bleed for who know how long. I bit my hands and pulled my hair forcefully sometime in my tantrum. (End of graphic scene) It wasn't until someone entered the unlocked door when I realized that I've been screaming too loud for a long time. The newcomer saw me in this state and rushed over.

"Oh my, are you alright?" she asked.

I tried to look at her, but my eyes are too blurry to make out anything except for the fact that she is older than me, perhaps around 35 years of age. And that my mind is still a jumbled mess of confusion and pain.

She tried to calm me down but to no avail. I was too distraught and hurt to listen. She must have been trying for a long time because someone spoke at the door.

"Mom? Are you in here? What took you so long?" A familiar voice said at the doorway.

I was so shocked that I didn't even realize that I stopped crying.

"T-Therence?"

Therence's POV

"T-Therence?" Abby whispered, her eyes tearing up.

To say that I was shocked was an understatement. She lay in my mother's hands like a baby needing comfort. Her hands were bloody and I could see bite marks from here. Her wrists were bleeding as well, most likely from the knife beside her. I noticed that her calf was in the same state as her wrists. Her arms and legs were lined with red, as if raked by a sharp object. She was pale, shaking, and out of breath from crying.

"What happened to you?" I inquired softly.

She shook her head and choked, seeming to have more difficulty in breathing.

"Anxiety attack," I muttered, having recognized the signs. I immediately went to her side and calmed her down, while mom tended to her injuries.

"Deep breaths, Abby. Deep breaths." I keep saying this to her until she followed it.

"Inhale. Hold your breath for three seconds. Exhale."

After a few moments, she calmed down enough for us to talk to her.

"Please tell us what happened," my mom said.

As Abby told us what happened, I looked her over more closely. Her cuts were bandaged (I don't know when and where mom got those, perhaps while I'm busy calming her down. Nevertheless, I'm grateful.) in both the wrists and calves. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face was wet and swollen from crying too much. I noticed how much different she looked like from I've last seen her a few days ago. How could a happy girl like her hide so much?

Silence followed after the confession. The tension in the air was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Seemed like I wasn't the only one who noticed it as Abby tried to cut the tension. Literally. With a knife. She smiled wryly. I can't help it. I chuckled, which turned out to a full-blown laugh. Mom joined as well.

A few minutes later, we became sober, remembering the reason we were here. Abby looked at the clock. 8:00 pm. My mom and I were here for an hour already.

"You better go," Abby said, not taking her eyes away from the clock.

We were hesitant, but after pointing out that there were still people waiting for us back home and that we haven't eaten yet, we conceded.

"Why don't you join us to eat, Abby?" mom asked her.

The previously (perhaps still) distraught girl shook her head. "I don't want to eat. Not after this. And besides," she looked at us. "They're your family. I don't want to intrude."

"You won't be intruding us. Are you sure you don't want to eat?" I asked her.

She nodded in affirmative. Before we went home, I called out to her.

"Yes?" she asked.

I took a deep breath. "Promise me you won't kill yourself," I whispered.

The mask that she had built after the confession faltered for a moment before coming back up. She smiled genuinely. "I promise."

I smiled back at her before we went home.

Abby's POV

A few minutes after Therence and his mom (Theresa, if I remember correctly) went home, I sat at the edge of the roof (top of the third floor) of our house. I was looking down as if something was urging me to jump. I stood up, almost leaning over the edge. It would be so easy right now. I could just jump to end my suffering.

Promise me you won't kill yourself.

I closed my eyes and plopped back down. I couldn't do it. I promised, after all. I never break promises, at least, not anymore. I took one last look down and made my way to my bedroom where I'll attempt to sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

So reveal: my real name/nickname is Abby, and my crush's name is Therence (and JR but that's not the point). I used real-life characters here, but the story isn't real (don't worry. I haven't gone that far). However, the feelings and urges are real, but not the actions.