Emily quietly entered the room and gazed in awe at her first patient. A
young psychiatrist, she didn't know how to handle what was laid right in
front of her. Her patient had called the previous night at two o' clock in
the morning requesting an emergency session, saying there was something
important she needed to hear. The odd thing wasn't the late call, but it
was the fact that her patient had talked. For half a year, Emily had coped
with undying care and patience towards her first charge, never letting the
parents interfere with sessions. Half a year, not a word was spoken to her.
And now, all of a sudden, she was to hear something "very important that
she needed to hear" . . . it sent chills down Emily's spine when she first
heard the tone of voice on the other end of the phone. She heard despair,
heartache, and given up hope.
Emily sat down and gazed at the seventeen-year-old in front of her. She had
long, black hair, bright blue eyes, and smooth skin with a fair complexion.
She seemed like the type that wouldn't deal with depression. But, that
wasn't the case with her. At only seventeen years of age, she had attempted
suicide more than a dozen times, all times barely being able to be stopped.
She was the master at ways of ending her life. Over dosing, self-
mutilization, drowning . . . you name it, she had done it. All in the few
short years from the age of fifteen to seventeen.
Two years, sighed Emily, bringing out a notepad and a blue ballpoint pen.
Two years of attempted suicide, being "brought back to life", and still
"Morning, Emily," she said, smiling faintly.
"Morning," Emily smiled back, crossing her legs gracefully.
"How have you been? It's been a week now."
"It's been very well," Emily shrugged. "Now, what about you? Why did you
call?" What had made her open up after so long with no probing at all? What
had caused her to call? What compelled her to need to talk?
She shrugged. "I figured before I died that the truth should be told."
"Oh, don't look so surprised, Emily. You know my history. What makes you
think I'd stop trying to kill myself just because the judge said I had to
go to counseling?"
Emily picked up her pen and pretended to jot down notes.
She shook her head. "Don't even, Emily. I know very well that you're not
used to hearing teenagers threaten suicide. Of course, I'm not threatening.
I'm telling you what's going to happen."
"Why are you telling me?" Emily asked quietly.
She shrugged. "Because no one would believe me anyway. The last time I
tried dying I wrote all about it. No one believed me then, why would they
believe me now?"
"You don't know that they wouldn't believe you."
"Oh, yes I do." She shrugged after a bit. "But, that's why I've come to
you. I'm going to tell you everything."
"EVERYTHING. I want everyone to know what happened wasn't supposed to
happen," she sighed, gazing down at the floor. "No one was supposed to die.
Everything was supposed to turn out perfect. It was going to be a perfect
ending for our junior year. It was going to be perfect."
Emily nodded. "What do you want me to do?"
She sighed. "Listen. Listen to what I have to say. Hopefully, the truth
will be heard and people will know what REALLY happened."
Emily quietly asked, "Why not live and see it happen for yourself? Give me
time; I can help you heal from your pain."
She shook her head. "No, Emily, you can't. Nothing can." Tears slid down
her cheeks and dropped silently into her folded hands.
"Let me help you."
She shook her head again. "There isn't anything left to live for.
Everything is gone. There isn't anything to hold on to."
Emily nodded with understanding she wished she didn't have. She opened up a
new section of her notepad and positioned her pen over the paper.
She sighed, reflecting on the last month her life had been perfect. "First,
there was Stacie . . ."
A/N: ^_^ A new story!! I'm so excited!! I already have the first few
chapters written; they're waiting for reviews! So, drop one and I'll update