(Edited)

A few days, not sure how many, had passed since the incident. I didn't go anywhere or do anything. I was unsure of what day it was. I would look on my phone, but I threw it under the bed a few days ago when it wouldn't stop blaring with calls and messages from my friends. I didn't blame them for being concerned; I should have let them know something. I didn't have it in me to call them back and lie to them, so Id been lying in bed wallowing in self-pity, ignoring everything that had to do with the outside world. I woke up every morning, attended to my wounds, and got back into bed and repeat.

Today, something changed. I felt absolutely numb. I was alive but barely living. My body was present, but my soul lost to the world of pain and humiliation. There was no return.

Worthless! Good for nothing! Useless! No one wants you!

Die already!

Those poisonous words filled every corner of my mind leaving no place for disagreement. Maybe there was, I just didnt have any strength in me to do it. Maybe they were right! Maybe I am just a waste of space. Perhaps, it would be best if I ended my pain, ended things? I didnt want to feel the pain anymore; the hatred was eating me alive. I felt suffocated, like every single ounce of oxygen was taken out of my lungs and replaced by water. I was drowning. I couldnt take it anymore; my body couldnt take it anymore.

A sob left my mouth as I crouched down onto the floor in front of the bed. I sat down crossing my legs, tears rolling down my cheeks. I looked at what lay on the floor in front of me; a razor blade, a pen and paper. I grabbed the razor in one hand and the pen in the other. I was ready. I was broken but ready. I took a deep breath and wrote down my story on paper. They had the right to know why I did it, why I couldnt hold on any longer.

Im sorry!

Call me a coward for taking my own life, and in some sense of the word, its true because Im choosing to end it than face the pain thats ahead!

Call me selfish for ending it and leaving you all with the pain and in some sense of the word, its true because Id rather be selfish than stay a day longer in this world!

Call me unreliable because Ive always said that Id be there for you, and in some sense of the word it's true because instead here I am about to end my life without thinking twice about you!

Call me inconsiderate for not thinking about the pain Ill leave in your hands and in some sense of the word its true because I dont care, all I want is to end my sorrow, to end the painful venom thats clouding my mind.

Call me anything you want, but Ill be calling you all the same.

Youre all cowards for not approaching the matter, confronting me.

Youre all selfish because you were all wrapped up in your own perfect lives to see how messed up mine was!

Youre all unreliable for not seeing my cry for help, looking past my façade.

Youre all inconsiderate for not considering my feelings and realizing that this was the best choice for me. So, hating me for doing this makes you all just as bad.

But,

I dont blame this on you; you didnt abuse me for two years. You didnt abandon me at an orphanage when I was four. You didnt tell me to make the mistakes I did. It was the hand I was dealt. Ending my life was as easy as breathing. The pain got so bad that I couldnt hold the façade anymore. I couldnt pretend anymore. Im sorry to be one of those people to go back on her words!

I made a promise, to not end it, not to leave the people I love, broken. If things were different, maybe I would have made it.

Love me, hate me, I dont care. But this was one promise I had to break!

Im sorry.

I folded the letter and placed it into the pocket of my jeans, hoping someone would find it. I wiped my tears away and put a smile on my face, the storm inside me stilled. I placed the blade on my wrist, ready to cut deep, so there was no possible way of bringing me back to hell, to all my torment. I took one last, deep breath and started to press the edge of the blade into my skin.

The sound of buzzing cut me off. I blinked rapidly trying to get myself out of my frozen state. Just ignore it! I shook my head and looked back at the task at hand. I pressed the blade into my flesh, breaking the skin, but the buzzing cut me off again. I looked around, now realizing that it was an incoming call from my phone. I sat still waiting for it to stop so that I could finish what I started. A few seconds passed, and it stopped, I sucked in a breath and looked back at my wrist. I brought the razor closer, and the buzzing started again. Did the caller know what the heck I was doing? I got irritated and reached for my phone before I could stop myself. I answered it.

"H-halo," I rasped out, my throat burning from not drinking anything in a few days.

"Autumn! Pumpkin is that you?" Dustin asked through the speaker.

I cleared my throat so he could hear me better.

"Yeah Dus its me. What do you need?"

"Where the hell have you been? I haven't seen you in a week!" he accused. I laid my head back on the bed, trying to ease the headache. "Your friends have been going crazy looking for you." He went on.

I played with the hem of my shirt and looked at my wrist; I was itching to continue. "I've been sick."

He scoffed. "Yeah sure and I'm the freaking president!" He said sarcastically. I could see him roll his eyes at me, thats how well I knew him. "Get dressed and send me your address. I'm picking you up in thirty minutes." He ordered.

My breath staggered. "I'm not feeling well Dustin, rain check?" I felt even more drained than before. I eyed the blade with a burning desire to end my suffering, but I couldn't seem to be able to cut the call. I could hear arguing on the other side of the line. The phone was pulled to different directions, someone else wanting to talk.

"I want to talk to her!" I heard Shawn yell.

"I'm talking, get off."

"Give it!" Shawn yelled. I heard a smacking sound and Shawn mumbling that Dustin was a female dog. Their little bickering session placed a small smile on my face, but it disappeared as soon as it came on.

"Sorry, where were we? Oh, thats right, I was blackmailing you," Dustin said casually, after taking the phone back from Shawn.

"You didn't blackmail me," I whispered, my razor blade now forgotten and laid cold on the floor with blood on it.

"I didn't?" he asked, confused. "Well, I'm going to. If you don't send me your address, I'll find it myself and go to your house, guns blazing. And to top it off, I'll inform lover boy how you know us," He said.

I took a deep breath, which hurt; it felt like a truck road over my chest. I didnt call his bluff, I was in no condition to play, besides I didnt want any of my friends anywhere near this house. For some unknown reason, he could tell something was wrong. Maybe he could hear the struggle in my breath or the fact that the fight left me.

"Please? You need this." He whispered, begging. Maybe this would be good. Perhaps I could say goodbye without them knowing it. I just knew that me saying no wasnt an option, he would come here, and I didnt want him hurt.

"Fine," I whispered, tiredly.

After sending him my address I just sat in my empty room with my clouded thoughts, floating over me. I couldnt comprehend how someones life could be so unstable. So, broken. I had high hopes for myself when I was younger; move out, start my own life, even go to college if it was possible. But now, I was sitting on my bedroom floor alone and broken. I ached, and not just physically but mentally too. I couldnt take it anymore. I traced my finger over the dried blood on my wrist. I had cut enough to leave a scar but not to cause any damage. It was for the best; I was still going through with it. I had to.

Dustin picked me up a few houses down as I had asked. It was dark outside so they couldn't see the state I was in. I had the hood of my jacket over my head to hide my face and my bruises; I didnt cover anything. I slumped into the backseat of the car and closed my eyes. My goodbye note still laid in the pocket of my jeans, burning my skin with recognition, a reminder of what I still had to do. How cruel was the world, it hated me enough to torment me while I was in it, but it hated me, even more, to stop me from ending it.

I looked away from the window towards the front. Dustin sat behind the wheel, tapping his fingers to the beat of the music that played through the radio. Shawn sat next to him on his phone, bobbing his head along. Nobody said anything since I got into the car, and I decided to be the first to speak up.

"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

"She speaks," Dustin said, our eyes meeting through the rear-view mirror. His widened slightly, probably from the state of my face. I looked away.

Shawn, oblivious to our small interaction, smiled and said, "We're going to show you what The Flames have been up to since you left." My heartbeat quickened from his statement, bile rising in my throat. The Flames was the name of Ryans gang, and wherever the gang was, so was its leader.

"Don't worry pumpkin, he won't be there, Dustin reassured me. I released the small breath I was holding, and our eyes met again.

The whole ride there I sat in silence with my head against the window, feeling the coldness and letting it take over. I found myself doubting this road trip. I wasnt ready for whatever it was that The Flames were up to. I already experienced all of their activities, and it came back to bite me in the butt. I had enough trouble in my life as it was. Their illegal parties werent something I wanted to add to my long list of horrors. My thoughts were interrupted when the car parked, and both Shawn and Dustin got out. I climb out, rocks crunched under my shoes, and I looked up.

Everywhere around me were cars parked messily in every which way. In the far corner was a group of people shouting out names and making bets, they passed their money to some guy behind the cheap, handmade counter so he could write them up. We were at a racetrack, a place where people came to race their cars, illegally for cash. I groaned; I shouldnt be surprised that they brought me to an illegal event. I turned around to question their stupidity, instead was met with another man's voice.

"Hey Fighter," He greeted me with a cheeky smile.

It was the guy from the café that kept on bothering me. He called me fighter; there was only one person on this entire planet that called me that. My heart stopped, and then the realization hit me with an impeccable force.

"Jay-Jay?"

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