Short Life Stories

Lost Cries - Draft

Slowly, I opened my heavy eyes. I wondered how many hours or days had passed. My still body pushed flat against the stiff bed. The walls were windows; there was no privacy. The nurses glanced at me as tears poured down my face. The droning of the machines echoed in my ears as I wished I was still sleeping.


It wasn’t my fear of dying that brought me here. It was my fear of living. I’d thought about doing it many times before, even cut into my skin until it bled. Cryptic messages carved in my hand did not alert my few friends to the impending suicide.


That day, relieved that classes were over, I dressed for Cross Country practice. Thoughts of my recent break-up with my boyfriend flooded my mind. I really loved him. Maybe if I were thinner he wouldn’t have left. He liked my best friend, Janine and they dated for a short time. I would have done anything for him. Standing in front of my locker, I calmly thought, this is it. I was alone. The others were already dressed, and so, I popped the tiny, white, Asthma pills into my mouth. I smiled to myself as I ran out to join the others in stretching. Then we started the warm-up mile run as a team. My steps felt lighter, like I was free. When we got back, I was surprised that I didn’t feel anything. I wondered why the pills weren't working so I ran back to the locker room and took another handful of pills.


Then, my running partner, Bonnie and I started out on our course talking about school and friends, the way teenagers do. We turned down a gravel road when I started to feel sick. I bent over at the side of the road and threw up. Flashes of the scenery spun in my eyes as I fell to my knees and threw up again. My whole body was sweating and the sickness came in waves. Bonnie knew I couldn't run anymore. We walked back to the high school and the wind in my face made me cold from the sweat. Back at school, I ran to the bathroom in the locker room and kept throwing up. My parents were called while the gym teacher stood outside the bathroom yelling at me. I couldn’t understand why she was yelling at me when I was getting sick. My parents arrived and helped me into the car. I laid in the back seat on the way to the hospital.


Once in the Emergency Room, doctors barked orders and nurses ran around. It seemed like a movie I was watching, not living. I couldn’t feel the needles being poked into my skin and my body was limp from vomitting. The floor, splattered with water and half-digested pills as they pumped what poison they could from my stomach but it was not enough. My eyes were heavy and closing. The doctor said there’s nothing more they could do but I was young and I had a strong heart. Then, the last hum was heard and I drifted away.