the death of me (chapter) *trigger*

He texts me asking what I was doing.. “making life decisions” I replied. “What decisions?” He asks.. “the decision”

I see Tom walking toward me and almost instantly I stand up, not to approach him but to get away. I am struck by his demeaner. Something in the way that he's walking tells me that he wishes I hadn't brought him into this. This isn't the Tom that I know. This boy doesn't look inviting nor warm to reach out to. He appears hard and cold and I know it's because he has seen the worst of me before. This is only a repitition of the last time he pulled me out of a situation that I have brought upon myself. yet he came and I knew he would, he always will no matter how many times I put him through my pain. “I care about you a lot.”

He's not happy to see me, he looks angry with me. I wouldn't blame him. I'm angry with me too. As he gets closer I notice that his face is more concerned in contrast to his body language. He's not only angry, he is worried. I feel ashamed at having him come to my rescue once again. I don't want him to see me like this. I know I'm only going to get worse from here. I can't live with that guilt again. But he's here.. and I stopped. Why did I call him? Why did I stop?

I panic and run back to the bin where I disposed of the last few paracode tablets. They're still sitting there on top of the rubbish. I pull out the half empty sheet and don't even bother to hesitate. I pierce the seal with my thumb nail and remove the last of the tablets. Without a moments grace they are being forced into my mouth by a quivering hand. The taste makes me gag but I swallow them effectively without stopping. There is 4..I swallow..3 pills left.. I turn to see Tom almost near me. 2..1.. none. They're all gone. The game is over. I pause for a moment to calculate that I have indeed taken 89 tablets. My face contorts as though I were going to cry.. I face Tom. He stands before me holding my bag that I uncaringly abandoned on the court. He looks at me sternly. His face outlines some deep thought.
“why are you doing this?” he asks me.
But before I have time to think of a considerable answer he continues.
“what have you done?”
I blink slowly while I comprehend the question. It feels like my eyes don't want to open again, that they could just stay stuck shut.
“You have to stop doing this to yourself” Tom says in an almost pleading voice. I can hear the dread in his words.
“I'm sorry.” I say. I mean it with all my heart yet It sounds so meaningless and pathetic even to my ears.
I know he must be in shock because he isn't reacting. He's watching me.. letting me sway in front of him like any stronger breeze could push me over.
“Why are you doing this to yourself Saphia?” His words are probing, trying me for all I intended to do.What did I intend to do?
Why is he not acting? I need him to call me an ambulence, I know I do need one but I dare not speak a word. He knows what I've done, I told him.
I sit down on the bench just as my phone starts buzzing. It's Nathan trying to call back. I didn't mean to hang up. I just didn't know how else to cope with how badly I've hurt him but to stop him from having to live through it over the phone being miles away. He must feel so helpless..
Tom looks at me with a strange urgency to answer the call.
“saphia!” Nathan shouts through the handset.
I flinch and search for a response. “yeah?”
“Seriously Saphia don't hang up on me like that” I can't help but feel scared that everyone is angry with me.
“Toms here” I say hurriedly to assure him that I'm safe. But I don't feel safe and I know that I'm not.
“Okay, has he rung an ambulence?” He speaks so fast that it takes me a second to register what he's asking me.
“No.” I say.
“For ###$ sake whay not?!”
“I don't know” I whimper.
“put him on” He says.
Without hesitation I pull the phone from my ear and thrust it toward Tom. As he takes it I stand up and start to move away. I can't listen to any more of Nathans immense panic. I feel sick in every way possible. Sick with guilt.

“Hello” Tom speaks into the phone. I don't want to see his face. I just want to leave.
I stumble mere meters along the dead end street. I can feel Toms stare pirecing holes through my back. I expect him to call after me so that I don't leave but when I look back I see that he's standing firmly in the same spot with my phone pressed to his ear, talking quietly.
I feel drunk because my body is lagging behind my thoughts. I'm trying to walk away but my body won't carry me. I lean against a fence noticing that its getting harder to think about what I'm doing.

“saphia!” I spin around slowly and start walking back towards Tom.
“come with me” he says.
“I can't really see very well.” I say in explanation to my struggle at walking straight.
“I can see that.” he replies.
I blink a few times in attempt to clear my sight, it doesn't work.
Just as I reach Tom he starts to empty the contents of my bag. An empty water bottle, what must be around eight empty pill sheets and the box they came in. He looks closely at the label on the flattened box.
“I'm thinking about ringing this ambulence.” Tom says at last.
“If you really have taken this many pills.”
Why does he even have to consider that option?
“Go sit down” he says as he answers his own buzzing cellphone. He points to the bench seat around the corner so thats where I go. Despite his lack of control, I listen whole heartedly to everything he tells me to do. My head feels so heavy and it feels as though there's pressure all around me. As I collapse onto the seat the world spins rapidly.
“I'm being serious..” he says to the person on the other end of the phone. “..we're at the park.”
After a moment Tom draws the phone away from his ear and says “Mikayla's coming”
I try to respond to what he's saying but all I manage to say is 'okay'.
I slump down on the bench. “Sit up” Tom says firmly.
“I am seriously thinking about calling this ambulence” he says again.
My life is in his hands now, but he doesn't appear to be in a rush to act on saving it. He knows what to do but he still hasn't done it.

Before long I see Mikayla running towards us on the park bench. It feels just like a scene in a movie, and I'm the main character. Some terrible event is unfolding in front of my own eyes. She slows down to a brisk walk as she surveys the situation from afar.

Mikayla, so sweet and frightened, takes my arm and tells me to lay on the grass only a few meters away. Even as I am saying that I can't make my way there, she is helping me to the ground. With her guidance I lower myself onto my back. Relief spreads through my body at being able to rest. A few reassuring words let me know that I'm okay. Gentle words that ease my mind.

Cold fingers wrap around my wrist. I figure she must be taking my pulse because I hear her whispering numbers to herself. I look into Mikayla's hardened face, she is the only thing that I can see. Tom seems to disappear behind me. I try to look at him but my head feels dizzy with the movement of turning so I let it settle onto the soft earth. His voice has drowned out into background noise meaning he can't have come any closer.

I must appear sheepish smiling up at my new savior, although I feel panicked. I am so overwhelmingly glad to see her. All of my emotions are reflected in the expression on the face only 5 inches from mine. It makes me wonder if I too look as afraid. Mikayla's eyebrows furrow with worry and yet I can see the grattitude in her eyes of the ability to look into mine. Words can't describe how I feel right now. From the moment I sighted her running toward me I felt safer, and for a second I stopped being scared and started smiling uncontrollably. She shouts my responses to Tom who is talking to the emergency team on the phone, from what I can make out.
I feel the world spinning around me, becoming duller..quieter. Mikayla's voice is gentle but hurried in a forced tone of assertive professionalism.
“Saphia, I want you to look at me, look at my face”
I do although my vision is blurred. I try to focus.
“can you tell me where you are?” she asks.
“at the park.”
My words come through slowly and strained as if I were trying to speak underwater.
“good girl. Can you tell me where you live?” She talks to me as if I'm a small child. But I don't mind. I feel like a child, so insignificant beneath her gaze, so inexperienced. In fact, I'm thankful that she is in a way taking all of the responsibility off of me by asking such direct questions. I answer them all as best I can despite the struggle in my mind that they should come automatically but they don't.
“can you tell me your birthdate?” She asks.
“The.. “
Why am I having to think about this so hard?
“..twenty, first of the.. June. Ninety, seven”
I think of how bad I must seem and I'm scared by my own lack of ability to respond. I feel like I should be able to answer such simple questions more easily.. Mikayla seems to notice my insecurity, she drops the professional barrier between us and she looks at me as her bestfriend rather than a patient. “and what colour are my eyes?”
For some reason I feel better about being asked a question that is about herself. Even if it is only to get me to focus my attention.
“blue” the word comes out natuarally without any thought. However I take the objective to stare into her eyes as I notice how dialated they are. “but at the moment they're grey” I state “and your pupils are huge”
She laughs almost awkwardly “and what colour is the sky?”
This isn't a test question, its a personal joke and it makes me feel relieved to hear it.
“grey” I reply with an awkward laugh of my own.
Mikayla's eyes, they change colour with the sky, without fail. We discovered this oneday when we noticed that every time it were cloudy and rainy her eyes would be grey. And when the sky was bright blue, her iris' reflected that.

Now the sky is darkening and moving.. my thoughts drift along with the dull clouds and as they trail away, so does my awareness. I can't tell whether the darkness is due to the sun fading or my vision.
“Saphia” I turn to face Mikayla's worried gaze “good girl, stay awake darling”.
I force my eyes to stay open and I listen whole heartedly to her demands. I can vaguely make out fragments of Tom's sentences on the phone but I'm not entirely making an effort to take in what I hear. “She's crying so I think she knows what's going on”.
Only then do I realise that my face is wet and I can feel tears rolling over my cheeks. Mikayla looks as though she is about to cry herself despite the contrast in her voice of false calmness for my sake. Then I realise that I can't read how she is trying to act, I can only read those painsaked eyes in front of me.

A finger floats in front of my eyes and Miakyla's face turns to a look of concern.
“her eyes are glassy, equally unresponsive” theres a slight pause “shes pale”.
I hear Tom reiterating her words down the phone. I try to focus on her finger or to move or to speak but I can't and I have nothing to say. My head is burning like my blood is fire in my veins, itching through my brain. There's pressure all around my skull.
“The ambulence is on its way” Tom says.
I don't know what to think about this.. so I don't, I allow myself to recognise that what happens to me from now is past anything of my decision making. I have given my life responsibility over to Tom and Mikayla like the keys of a haunted home.
I close my eyes and I could easily fall into a deep sleep. Mikayla touches my shoulder in a gesture to keep me awake. “i'm tired”.
I know how pathetic I sound. But I've stopped caring about appearing small and insolent because I am.
“I know sweetie, but you can't go to sleep”.
It's kicking in, the drugs are taking over my system. My body wants to shut down even with my mind running rapidly. And right now, I think I would let it.

Mikayla is still kneeling over me.
“I'm going to put you into the recovery position okay? Incase you're sick”.
She pulls me over onto an angle, moving my arms into place. I can barely feel her touch and the only way I know that shes moved me is because her body is on an angle in my line of sight.
I'm still thinking about what I was doing before this happened, while I was still walking and contemplating. Before I decided indefinitely that I would take my life. My rush of thought seems to have given me a stream of energy. Suddenly I have enough sense to talk.
“I walked past your house” I tell Mikayla.
“My house?” she talks with false enthusiasm like you would to a child telling you about some exciting thing they've done. “Why would you go past my house?”
“I was going to go there” I reply.
“really?” she sounds bemused.“well you should have” she says in a tightened tone.
I can't help but to laugh quietly to myself about the nature of that one decision not to enter Mikayla's house and how it may just cost me my life. All because I was afraid that she was mad at me. Even if she was, I couldn't tell now. This girl that is going out of her way to keep me positive, awake and alive. How could I think that she would be mad at me when I needed her help? She tells me all about her day and what they did in biology to keep me alert and calm.
For a while it's almost like we could forget what is looming over us.
But we can't. Perhaps silence is easier in order to bypass hearing the hurt in eachothers voices.
My eyes are stinging and the pressure inside my skull is rising. It feels like my blood is building up behind my eyes. A fire that is spreading across my face and down my neck. I'm in pain but I don't want to say anything. The ambulence is coming and they are doing all that they can for me. Everything is slowing down so quickly.

It's getting harder to breathe. Thinking about every deliberate breath that I take, heaving air into my lungs. If I stop trying to breathe now, I think I will pass out. I can't focus my eyes to see clearly anymore, my sight flickers like a slow motion projection in my head. Like a dream. I'm trying to piece together the images that are fading in and out with the sky above me. I'm too tired and I don't want to think anymore. All of the words in my mind are melding together. I'm falling asleep..fading.. I must be dying..