|It Was My Fault
Author: Sins of Today PM
What if Samantha didn't make it in time to save Taylor. What if she blamed herself for Taylors suicide. Rated for suicide, self-harm and dark themes.Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst - Words: 496 - Reviews: 6 - Favs: 9 - Follows: 4 - Published: 07-01-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8276916
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
"Taylor, Taylor!" I cried into the phone. I knew what she was doing is my fault. This wasn't supposed to happen. It was just a joke, a harmless joke. I dialed 911 as I ran towards my car. "My friend, I think she's trying to kill herself." I cried even harder now. I missed the rest of the conversation as I speed towards her house. I sped into the driveway and ran out of the car straight into her house. "Taylor!" I was screaming now as I ran up the stairs. Her brother was looking at me like I was crazy as I ran screaming and crying through his house. I got to the end of the hallway and shoved the laundry room door open. There she was, lying on the ground. I was too late, I killed my best friend. Her brother looked into the room and he too started bawling.
"Taylor?" he was looking to me for the answer. I didn't know what to say. He ran to me and hugged me. I hugged back and started bawling into his shirt. Just then the paramedics got to the house and came into the room. They quickly put her on the stretcher and ran out of the room with her and into the ambulance.
As they sped to the hospital I sped home. She's dead, she actually did it. I couldn't believe it. I ran to my room and screamed and screamed and screamed louder than ever. My head was spinning and my knees were weak. My stomach twisted as my legs gave out beneath me and I hurled into my garbage can. My head was spinning, my body numb. I didn't know what to think or what to do. Should I kill myself, make the score even.
After a few hours of me sitting there my eyes ran dry. I grabbed my laptop and threw it across the room. It shattered and the screen broke into a thousand shards of glass, taunting my. I slowly approached the sharpest looking piece of glass that lay littered across my bedroom floor. When I got to it I picked it up and glared at my reflection and saw a murderer and a liar and a horrible person. I moved before I thought it threw.
A cut for everything that provoked her suicide. My arms were littered with cuts and blood dripped to my carpet. The final cut was the deepest, as I remembered the video and the responses. I should have been there sooner; I should have been there for her through it all. But I wasn't. My vision started blurring and I fell to the floor again. As darkness took over and my thoughts became jumbled together I realized that no matter what I won't be able to fix my mistakes. I drew all my strength and dug the glass deep into my arm.
"It was my fault"