Before I Go

Chapter 8- I Get It

Warning: This chapter mentions suicide. Reader discretion is advised.

"Ash? How did you..." I begin but stop myself, somehow suddenly unsure of how to finish the question. Although, I can almost guarantee that the answer is not really any of my business. However, that doesn't stop me from wondering. How did she know something was wrong? That I needed help? That I was overthinking? My thoughts go racing, my heart following suit, banging violently against my chest. Is it obvious? Does everyone know? I can feel myself begin to overthink again. I can feel the panic begin to set in. Fear and pain bubble within me, surging through my veins before I can make any sense of the situation. Before I can hear Ashton's response. It's an immediate reaction, one that impatiently charges through my body without my permission.

"I get it, Morgan," she replies quietly, letting out a slow breath. As curious as I am to know what she's talking about, I force myself to calm down, if even a little. My body goes rigid as I anticipate the words that will come out of her mouth next, all essential bodily functions momentarily ceasing. My breath catches in my throat, and I'm unsure how to make myself inhale and exhale at this precise moment. Softly, Ashton explains, "You know, my sister suffered from anxiety and depression, too. I was young then and didn't understand the signs at the time, but I do now. Honestly, some of the signs were pretty obvious now that I'm aware of things. I can see that you're struggling because now I know what to look for. I recognize the cry for help. And I want to be here for you; I want to be friends. I want you to know that you're not alone. And I won't let you go down the same path my sister did."

"Your sister..." I whisper, shock settling into me. I can't bring myself to finish the sentence, hoping that I'm not intruding on Ashton's personal memories. I'm silently praying that I'm not bringing up her former trauma before it has had a chance to heal. That I'm not tearing open a wound, exposing my new friend to a fresh wave of unnecessary pain.

"She killed herself," Ashton answers plainly, although I can hear the tinge of pain in her words. I can tell she's trying to hide the emotion in her voice, in her expression, so I don't say anything about it. But I don't miss it. She pauses for a moment as she stares up at the ceiling, and I can see the glistening in her eyes. I'm a terrible friend for making her talk about this; it's no wonder I never get close to anyone. "It was about five years ago now. I was only twelve. I... Honestly, I had no idea what she was going through at the time. No one did, so she was all alone." Ashton pauses again and quietly clears her throat. Blinking back the tears that are threatening to fall, she continues on, "But you're not alone, Morgan. You've got me. And I get it. I know about your anxiety and depression, and I'm still not going anywhere. So, if you're ever having an attack or feel like cutting again, you can call me. Please, call me. And hopefully, you won't feel alone anymore," she says, giving me a sad smile. While her expression is a mixture of pain and worry, there's something about the way that she's looking at me that tells me that she means every word.

Ashton knows. She knows, and she's not leaving me. She wants to stay. She still wants to be friends.

"Thank you," I whisper, so quietly that I'm not even sure she can hear me. I'm overwhelmed with so many emotions that I have trouble sorting through them. While I'm used to being overtaken with the negatives, this time is different as my heart swells with affection for my friend. Appreciation. Hope. I choke back a sob that tries to escape me as I struggle to reign in my raging emotions, trying to gain at least a sliver of control.

"No need to thank me," she replies, taking my hand in hers and giving it a slight squeeze. "That's what friends are for."

This girl is too good to be true... I don't even know if I deserve her.

"Are you ready to get up off the floor now?" she asks, attempting to add that familiar cheer to her voice. I nod in response, trying to mirror the small smile that Ash offers me, and she helps me to my feet. "What about leaving the bathroom? Think we can make it to your bed?"

I nod again, and this too-sweet, incredibly kind girl helps me walk all the way to my bed. With her arm wrapped around my waist and mine over her shoulder, she supports me. Both physically and emotionally. The understanding shared between the two of us at this moment fills my heart in a new way. And with this new feeling, another well of tears forms in my own eyes. I can't stop them from escaping, from pouring down my face, but I don't think I even want to. This time, it's different. These tears are different.

Ashton is different.

She really does get it... I don't think I've ever felt so understood in my entire life. So accepted. So... okay.

"Is it alright if I just hang out here with you today?" she asks as she plops down beside me, using her sleeve to wipe the tears from my cheeks.

"I... I don't really think that I'll be a very pleasant companion to be stuck with for an entire day... but I wouldn't mind if you stayed," I say honestly. And although it's true, it sends a weird pang through my chest. I don't think that I want her to leave. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything; I should have just agreed to her question and kept my mouth shut.

"Perfect," Ashton responds with a bright smile.

I don't know what I did to deserve this girl, but...

I think I'm incredibly fortunate to have her.