Arra was sitting on the floor of her room, a sharp, serrated, blade hovering over her wrist. She had never really been seen as someone who should be on watch, but today, something in her head finally snapped. Most days, people wouldn’t give her much mind. They would talk to her, sure, but it would always be like walking on eggshells for her, because of her different personality. Different because she moved to her school from a different state. Different because her parents raised her without the usual luxuries of today’s children. Different because she never fits into any crowds.
Even though there would always be the annoying comment or two from whoever, Arra was always able to brush it off, or just absorb it and act like nothing happened. Until, that is, they took it too far. All day, people had been shooting insults at Arra.
At any other time, it would have been fine, but recently Arra had been struggling with life. She had been sick for several days and the homework was building up. On top of that, most of the assignments she was missing were due within a few days or less. Not to mention having depression. There was also the fact that she has ADHD which makes everyone think she’s lying when she tells them she’s sick.
Another thing, Arra’s parents would often go on work trips overseas for weeks at a time, leaving her home alone for weeks on end. They were currently on a trip to Tokyo. While they were gone, Arra’s mental health had been crashing. She needed them and they weren’t there. Loneliness and anxiety was creeping through her, tightening around her chest, like a cold fist.
So, tonight, she would end it.
Cutting her wrists was the easiest option, so she had taken a knife from the kitchen and was now holding that knife above her left arm, ready to end it all. She pressed the edge of the blade against her lightly tanned skin and slowly slid the cold steel up her forearm.
The pain sent tears spilling from her eyes, but Arra ignored it and quickly moved to her other wrist, repeating the process. After just a few seconds, Arra collapsed to the floor in her dark room. She could almost feel her life slipping away and she started to see the years flashing through her mind.
The darkness was beckoning, and Arra didn’t have the strength to fight it. Then, suddenly, warm yellow light flooded Arra’s vision, like the sunrise after a stormy night. It was. . . welcoming.
“ARRA!” The cry cut through Arra’s fuzzy thoughts like the bloody knife on the floor next to her. Right. . . She thought, as she remembered that her best friend, Jacks, had said they would be stopping by to say hello. In her darkest moment, Arra had forgotten, and now her closest friend was standing over her as she bled out on the floor. Jacks knelt at Arra’s side and took her hands, assessing the damage.
“Why. . .?” Jacks spoke softly, almost to themself, “Why would you do this. . .?” Then, Jacks rose to their feet, sprinting out the door. Seconds later, they returned, carrying rolls of bandages and medical tape. Jacks sat back down next to Arra, dialing 911 whilst trying to stop the bleeding.
As soon as a male voice answered the phone with the typical “911, what’s your emergency?” Jacks started describing the wounds and asking what to do. The man on the other end of the call first asked for their address, before directing Jacks on how to dress and wrap the cuts. As soon as the instructions came Jacks set to work, their hands moving swiftly and carefully over Arra’s slashed wrists. Barely a minute later Arra heard the unmistakable sound of sirens and saw flashing red and blue lights through her blurred sight. For the next hour or so she flickered in and out of consciousness.
The most she could remember was this: bright lights, being rushed to a hospital, someone crying, oxygen mask, anesthetics, then: blacking out. Even with all this chaos buzzing around and even with the distorting fuzz in her head, one thing Arra could remember clearly was Jacks. Through all of that, Jacks had remained by her side, even when the paramedics advised them to leave, they stayed and watched over Arra. She hadn’t expected that.
The first thing Arra felt upon waking up was someone hugging her tightly enough it felt like her ribs might crack. Arra let out a stained sound of pain and the person released her. Once free, Arra looked up to see Jacks’s worried form, tears and what looked like a faint remnant of blood smeared on their face. As soon as Arra met Jacks’s eyes, joy broke through their scared expression and tears spilled down their cheeks. Regret filled Arra’s chest as she realized that she was the cause of that fear.
“I-I’m sorry. . .” She said quietly, dropping her gaze.
“No.”
The words were so firm it took Arra a second to realize that it was Jacks who had spoken them. She looked up and met their eyes again, but she didn’t see the anger she thought she would.
“No,” Jacks said again, whipping away their tears and looking down at their hands, “I should be the one apologizing, not you.” When Jacks looked up again the tears were back, despite their efforts to restrain them. Suddenly, Jacks pulled Arra into another hug, crying into her shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you! I should have been there for you! I should have been able to-to help you! I-I should- I should have noticed sooner. I’m so sorry!”
The words came out as a garbled waterfall and Jacks’s voice was broken with emotion. The apology startled Arra into silence. She hadn’t realized that was what Jacks thought. She had never thought she meant this much to anyone.
“I-I can’t live without you. . .” Jacks muttered the sentence into Arra’s shoulder then pulled away, again trying to wipe away tears again. “I won’t ask why,” They said, “But I will listen if you want to talk.”
Shame spread through Arra. Here was this loving, caring, person and she hadn’t even thought about how they would feel after her death.
“I couldn’t take it anymore. . .” She said quietly, “All the stress. And I didn’t want to tell anyone because the constant watch only ever makes it worse.”
Arra looked back up to Jacks. She only saw understanding. Nothing close to the blank, generally concerned faces people usually made. “I-I don’t want to be on watch. . .” Arra said the words with the same type of sadness as a dog begging for food. She felt fingers brush softly against her knuckles as Jacks carefully took her hands.
“I won’t let them put you on guard,” Jacks said gently, “But I want you to promise me something.”
Confused, Arra examined every aspect of their face. “What?” She asked, worried at what the answer may be.
“I want you to promise that you’ll talk to me.” Jacks said, “About anything. Even if it’s nothing, call me. No matter what time it is, I’ll be available. Whatever you need. I want you to promise you’ll ask.” Jacks’s raw emotions seemed to infect Arra, and she found herself crying, nodding in agreement. Now it was her turn to cry on Jacks’s shoulder.
Over the next few weeks Arra made a good recovery. Jacks took time off school to stay in the hospital with her and the two became inseparable. After being released from the hospital, Suicide Watch tried to get Arra under their wings, but Jacks helped keep them away, under the conditions that the pair would stick together and keep in touch with someone on the Crisis Line. The next year was rough, but with Jacks’s help, Arra made it through the rest of her senior year and continued to college. The two lead happy lives, forgetless to how they saved each other.
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Not everyone is as okay as they may seem. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a faithful friend to help.
Remember that.
Next time you think you know how someone feels, keep in mind that some people cover it well and may be in worse condition than you think.
Remember that.
For those of you who can relate to this short story, I implore you, try to find help. Even if it’s not an official source like the Crisis Line. Someone out there wants to help.
Remember that.
Suicide Crisis Line: Just dial 988