2:56 :: h.s

trente six

{ Trigger Warning }

3:09

Rae has been sitting in front of me for God knows how long.
Her eyes jump around the room quickly, searching for the right words to say.
Finally, she closes her eyes and begins speaking.

"It started happening when I got out of the garage." She opens her eyes.

I furrow my eyebrows, silently asking for her to continue.

"I sat in the garage for two days, and just stared at my body swinging from the ceiling."

"Wait, two days? Your mom said that your dad tried to get you down as soon as it happened?"

Did she lie?

Rae smiles a very small smile. "The story my mother tells about my father trying to get me down, is just that. A story. My neighbor found me two days later because my parents were on vacation in Seattle. My parents told her to call me everyday to make sure I was alright. After two days of nothing, she got worried, found the spare key, and walked in. I remember her scream clear as a bell. She ran out faster than she came in. However long later, the door was busted open and the paramedics got me down. I hid behind the lawn mower because I didn't know if they could see me."

I swallow the lump starting to form in my throat.

You can't feel bad for her.
She hates it.

"I ran to the swing the moment I got through the door. I was one of the few people who knew it was there, and the people who knew hadn't gone there in years. I didn't know if I could talk for two weeks. I was too afraid to try. Every night, I would feel the rope around my throat and scream in pain. I felt like my voice wouldn't work because I was basically choked to death."

I take a deep breath when she pauses.

"It still happens." I state.

She nods, "it never stopped."

I nod slowly.
Rae blinks a few more times before continuing.

"I always beg to feel something. I feel like I should be more clear when I say that. I want to feel something good. I want to feel something soft, or smooth, or gentle. The only thing I've felt for a year is pain. Cruel, evil, sick pain. And now that I love you, I hurt every second of every day."

My shoulders fall.

She's hurting because of me.
It's my fault.

"But is a good kind of hurt," she tries to reassure me.

I nod, "I can see why Catholicism and other religions see suicide as a one-way ticket to hell. You're stuck in the in between, and everyday you re-experience your death. If that isn't hell, then I don't know what is."

She stays silent for a moment.
I don't want to push her because I'm still trying to wrap my head around this.
I can't even begin to imagine the amount of pain that is.
When she killed herself, she was dead not too long after.
She went into shock, and her body panicked, and she twitched, and coughed, and watched the world around her disappear.
She's gone through that every night for over a year.
I pity her.
I don't want her to feel that, I want her to feel . . . good things.

"Remember when I left you asleep in the woods?" Rae asks.

I look at her. "Yeah."

"Well, I left as soon as you fell asleep. I didn't know how long I had before it happened, so I just started walking. I didn't want you to hear me screaming so I left you alone. I'm sorry."

I shake my head, "no, no, I get it. I understand why you would want to keep something like this hidden."

She nods slightly.
Her hand reaches out to mine and holds it for a moment.

"You have school in a few hours. I think I'm going to head out." She whispers.

I nod, "okay."

She looks at me, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

I smile. "Yeah, I'll be sure of it."

Rae smiles back.
She lets go of my hand and wraps her arms around my neck.
I hold her in my arms as she sits on my lap.

I never want to let go.