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So, I started this story quite a few years ago and went on a hiatus and basically forgot it existed. But I found it again and decided I wanted to get back into it, so I edited all of the already-written chapters and then continued and finished the story. Please give me both positive and constructive feedback. There are some triggers in this story (and this chapter, specifically), so please be cautious. You are all fantastic and beautiful people and I hope you like my first chapter.
ETHAN’S POV
Here I am, on April 10, 2015, tying one end of the rope to a high branch of a tree. This is my 4th attempt now. Hopefully, this one would work. I finish securing the rope to the strongest part of the branch and then climb up onto the branch next to it. I loop the other end of the rope over my head. Then, I just sit. I sit in the tree and look up at the branches and twigs above me. The intricate tangle of wooden life. It’s quite beautiful, really. It’s just something most people don’t pay attention to. Well… Not unless you’re where I was right then.
I decide now is a good time for reminiscing. May be the last chance I get. So, as I look up at the world above me, I think about my life. At the age of 17, you would think that there wouldn’t be much to have happened throughout my time on this earth, but let me assure you, there was.
I replay the memory of running down the beach with my best friend Sammy when we first met on the Fourth of July when were only four. We wanted to race into the ocean. She won.
I replay the countless memories of finding notes around the house that said things like “Have a nice day!”, “Don’t forget to smile today!”, and “I love you, Ethan” that my mom left me every day when she left for work.
I replay the memory of my baby sister Ellie being brought home from the hospital four months ago. The memory of her smiling at me made me want to cry.
I think about what I would be doing to them all. Was it really worth it?
Then I replay the memory of my step-father coming home from work with anger written all over his face. I re-watch the image of him in my mind as he glances out the window to see that my mom’s car is not in the driveway. I remember backing away in horror as he removed his belt and smiled that awful grin of his and said “This will only hurt a bit.” That was not the first time my step-father had beaten me. It was, however, the first time that he sexually assaulted me. I was 12.
The memory jolts me back into reality and gives me the push I need. I can’t live like this anymore. I need to do this. I look down at my scar-covered wrist and kiss it gently. “No more scars. No more pain. Just peace. Finally,” I think.
Tears stream down my face as I stand up and take a shaky breath. I let a single foot dangle off the branch. This was it. Just jump down and let the rope do its work.
I remove my hands from the branch above me. I am barely able to keep my balance now. I close my eyes and take in one last shaky breath. “This is it,” I think. “It’s now or never.”
Just as I’m about to let myself fall, my eyes snap open at the sound of someone shouting at me, “NO!”
I nearly fall from being startled, but quickly steady myself and place both feet back onto the branch and grab hold of the one above me. I glance behind me to see a boy about my age rushing toward me.
“Don’t let go,” he shouts to me as he gets closer, “Please. Just don’t let go.” “Shit,” I think to myself, ‘
“Seriously?”
He approaches me and I remove the necklace of rope from my body. I let the rope swing back against the tree and just sit on the branch that I was previously standing on. I wait until the boy is standing just below me.
“Hey,” he shouts up to me, “What were you thinking?” he huffs, clearly out of breath from running to me. “Oh, hmm, I don’t know,” I think sarcastically with an eye roll. Somehow, I don’t even think before replying to this stranger.
“What does it fucking look like I was thinking?” I bite sarcastically, my voice rough. My eyes widen, surprised at myself. “Sorry,” he starts with a frown, “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just trying to help. I-I’m sorry.” he mutters, clearly embarrassed by his wording. What do I say to that? Why did I say anything in the first place? I shake my head. “No, I’m sorry.” I sigh, “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.” I continue, surprising myself with every word. “Look, I appreciate you trying to come over here to talk me down from the ledge or whatever, but this is my problem and I can deal with it myself, thanks,” I tell him.
He climbs up onto the branch across from me so that we are now facing each other on eye-level. “By killing yourself?” He asks. “Not to point out the obvious or anything, but that doesn’t exactly sound like the best solution to me.” He looks at me with a slight grin. And it may sound stupid, but I grinned back at him. It wasn’t so much that I found what he said to be funny, but more the fact that he was trying to lighten the mood and just the way his eyes softened when he looked at me made me feel like I couldn’t resist at least slightly smiling at the guy.
“Yeah, well… I’m kind of out of options so-” I try and he cuts me off, “So you go back to the drawing board. This isn’t an option, okay?” he replies, looking me dead in the eyes. “Look, um…” “Greyson”, he fills in for me. “Greyson”, I start, “Like I said, it’s nice of you to try, but you really don’t know me, okay?” I sigh as I untie my rope from the tree and climb down from where I was sitting. Greyson climbs down as well, and as I try to walk away, he gently grabs my wrist. I wince slightly at the pain from where I had hurt myself just a couple of hours ago. Luckily, he doesn’t notice. I turn to face him. “I’d like to,” he says. “What?” I ask with a confused look on my face. “You said I don’t know you. You’re right. But I’d like to,” he smiles at me softly. “I don’t know,” I say hesitantly.
“Come on,” he insists, “how about we start small.” He leads me over to a bench next to the baseball field and sits down, patting the spot next to him. I hesitate slightly before sitting about a foot away from him. “Okay,” I mutter, “Like what?” “Like… What’s your name?” He smiles. Right. This kid just tried to save my life and I didn’t even give him my name. I feel kind of douchy. “Oh… Right.” I mumble, embarrassed. “Ethan”, I say.
“Well, Ethan, it’s nice to meet you. I’d prefer to have met you under different circumstances, but I am glad to have met you, nonetheless.” He says with that same gentle smile. “I’m assuming you don’t want to talk about why you were just about to do… The thing you were about to do, right?” He asks me carefully. I nod aggressively in agreement. He seems nice enough, but I don’t want to spit my whole life story at a stranger. He laughs lightly. I feel my tense shoulders loosen a bit.
“So, like I said, we can start small. We can play the question game.” He smiles his goofy grin at me. I smile back, “The question game? Like the thing where you just go back and forth asking each other questions? Like kids do in like middle school?” I laugh and he laughs with me. “Yep! That’s the one.” He replies.
Why am I even talking to this kid? I mean yeah, he seems nice and he tried to help me, but I don’t even- “So, here are the rules,” He starts, cutting off my thoughts. “We go back and forth asking questions and whatever we ask, we have to answer as well. Deal?” He asks. “Yeah, sure. Sounds okay.” I reply, still confused as to why I have said even a single word to the boy seated next to me.
“So, what’s your favorite color?” He asks me. “Really? You’re going with number one on the list of cliche questions to ask strangers?” I laugh. “Hey,” he laughs back, “I said we’d start small. This was the smallest I could think of.” “Okay, fine,” I sigh with a smile, “It’s green,” I say. “What about you?” “Purple,” he replies smoothly.
“Okay. Well, I’m going to follow your super deep question with an equally deep one. How old are you?” I inquire. “Oh, hmm, I don’t know. That’s kind of personal,” he laughs. “Seventeen, you?” “Seventeen,” I reply. “Cool. When is your birthday?” He asks. “Well, is that your question?” I ask with a smirk. “Nope,” he laughs, “Just want to know. “Okay. August 25th. You?” I reply. “June 12. Ha! I’m older than you. You’re a baby.” He teases and sticks his tongue out at me. I glare at him playfully and gently hit his arm. “Am not!” I whine, completely proving that I am, indeed, quite childish. “Are too,” he smirks and gently hits me back. “Nuh uh,” I say, and nudge his shoulder. “Yeah huh,” he answers, nudging me back, a bit harder. “Nuh uh,” I nudge back harder. “Yeah huh,” he nudges me again. “Nuh. Uh.” I shove him right off the bench and he lands on his back. I slide over to the end of the bench where I had just knocked him off. I can see that he is perfectly fine, so I just laugh at the position I put him in. He childishly glares at me, so I kindly offer him my hand. He smirks and takes it. As I stand to help him up, he pulls me right down on top of him. We are both laughing hysterically and it takes us a moment to realize that I’m lying on top of him. When we do, we both just kind of awkwardly look at each other. I roll off of him and choose lying next to him on my back is a better position. He seems much more comfortable with this as well and lays on his side to face me.
“So, I guess I get to ask you a question now,” he smiles. “Yeah, guess so,” I smile back. This is odd. I’ve done an awful lot of smiling and laughing with this almost-stranger. I’m almost never this happy unless I am with my mom, with my baby sister, or talking to Sammy. It’s strange, yes, but I like it. “So…” He hesitates. “So…?” I tease him. “Sorry,” he chuckles, “I just feel like a lot of people take unnecessary offense to this question and I don’t want to offend you or make you think I’m assuming anything. Also, it’s a tad personal. So if you don’t want to answer it, you really don’t have to, okay?” I freeze. There are so many things he could ask me that I would be terrified to answer. “Okay?” I say, almost more like a question than a statement. “What’s your sexuality?” He asks carefully. I release a giant sigh of relief. For whatever reason, this is a touchy subject to some people. But for me, it’s just a part of who I am. So who cares? “I’m gay,” I reply. Then I get self-conscious and hope he isn’t homophobic. I seemed to have been making a friend and that isn’t something that happens a lot for me. When he doesn’t say anything, I speak, “And you…?” “Oh right, sorry,” he laughs. “I’m bisexual.” “Okay,” I smile, relieved that he doesn’t seem to hate me or anything.
“My turn,” I state. “What’s your favorite food?” “Pasta. Hands down.” He says without a second of hesitation. “You?” He asks. “Chicken,” I reply just as quickly. “Well, you know, chicken and pasta go pretty well together. Maybe we could eat them together some time?” He asks with an unsure smile. I’m not sure exactly what he means by this and get nervous. I hardly know this boy. I hesitate. “Or we could just like play video games or something. I didn’t mean it like it sounded. I just meant we should hang out some time.” He corrects himself. “Oh, yeah. Sure. That sounds cool.” I regain my composure and form a smile. He smiles back.
I take a glance at my watch. It reads 7:30pm. “Crap,” I mutter, “It’s 7:30. I should get back to my house now.” “Oh, crap. Yeah, I probably should too”, he sighs. “Feel free to say it isn’t okay, but um… Can I like…” He hesitates, “Can I give you a hug?” I swear my smile reaches both of my ears as I nod and he wraps his surprisingly strong arms around my slightly smaller frame. I wrap my arms around his body and place my forehead against his chest. I breathe in his intoxicating scent and just smile. He pulls away slowly and smiles down at me. “I hate to say it, but I really should go. I’m supposed to be home soon.” He says with a little frown. “Yeah, me too. I sigh.” He pulls out his phone and hands it to me. “Put your number in?” He asks. I hand him my phone for him to do the same. I type in my number and then touch the space where I am to enter my name. I type “Ethan :)”, save the contact, and hand him his phone back. He hands mine back as well and we part ways.
As I’m walking home, jamming out to some Sleeping With Sirens music blaring from my earbuds, I’m smiling from ear to ear at my phone where there’s now a new contact with the name “Greyson ;)”.
What do you think so far? I hope you like it!
Say no to drugs,
A.J.
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