The Perfect Suicide

I was one of the unlucky ones.

I was so close to a new life. One where I might start over. However, I committed suicide a month or so before I graduated from high school. Depressing isn't it? All those years of hard work for nothing... I suppose it really doesn't matter anymore though. I had it coming, this has been in the making since my freshman year, so it was bound to happen at some point.

People beat me up a lot at my school throughout those torturous years of my life. Just about everyone had some derogatory comment to send my way in the halls. I always told myself that I'd learned to tune it out, but really? I heard every insult loud and clear. Gay, queer, a homo, and worst of all in my opinion, a faggot. I seem to have lost count of how many times these words have been thrown my way, but I can safely assure you that it was a rather large number.

I often wonder why it had to be me.

The guy who wasn't attracted to women, but instead, men. I don't think I ever really believed in God, but if he was there, why did he choose to make me suffer? There was never a day that went by that I didn't ask myself that question.

No one was ever supposed to know.

I never meant for anyone to find out that I was gay. However, my fellow classmates began to get suspicious because by the time I was a sophomore, I still hadn't shown any real interest in a girl. So the guys started pestering me and pressuring me into accepting their dares to kiss girls. I thought it was really disgusting. Until people at school found out about my sexual orientation, I was fairly well liked by many people. I was generally considered the quiet and nice guy, and I was totally willing to settle for that. Though it seemed like it was simply not meant to be.

Then it changed drastically when people uncovered the truth about me. I couldn't think of a worse way for it to come out than in a locker room full of guys changing into their gym uniforms. However, with just my luck, someone from one of my classes accused me really loudly of checking him out while he was changing; before I knew it, everyone had finally worked out that indeed, I was not attracted to girls. Then one of the preppy jocks shouts out that when I bumped into him in the hallway last period, he could've sworn someone had felt him up...and naturally, blamed me. Suddenly I felt a blow to the head as he mercilessly beat my head into the lockers. Needless to say, no one defended me or attempted to help me up after my assailant left. My teacher didn't find me on the floor drenched in blood until the end of the period.

It spread like wildfire around my school that I wasn't interested in girls. After everyone knew, people stopped talking to me, stopped inviting me to parties, and ignored my existence all together. It was agonizingly painful to be excluded from everything that my life had once been. Before the incident in the locker room, I had been liked enough by my peers to be invited to things like parties and sleep overs at my friends' houses. Suddenly being thrown into an abyss of loneliness didn't really suit me. Plus, it didn't help that I was paranoid about being beaten at school behind every corner. Even my teachers who liked me before, disregarded me and started grading everything I did much harsher and called on me when they knew I didn't have a clue what the answer was.

I withdrew from the outside world and delved into a fantasy world that remained within the safe boundaries of my mind. I became little more than a shadow, drifting though the halls between classes, it was like I hardly existed at all. The snide remarks behind my back hurt more than anything I'd ever endured before. The pain was even more excruciating than when I took a blade to my wrist to cope. When I stopped and looked around, I was always desolately alone, the only one on the battle field, and I was losing the fight. Occasionally I'd look down at my hands, always drenched with blood and steeped in sin; it pushed me further into the spiraling oblivion. It felt like I had fallen into an endless dark abyss to the point of no return.

“Excuse me?” I heard a voice call out, but figuring that it wasn't directed at me, I walked on with my head held low. Feeling a tap on the shoulder I automatically flinch, expecting for blows to fall upon my frail body. When no physical pain occurs, I quickly shoot a glance upwards and my eyes come to rest upon the frame of a girl. She's kind of plain, and has wavy mid-back length chestnut brown hair with a pair of hazel eyes to match. She's probably a few inches shorter than me, I'd say that she's about average height for a girl, maybe 5'5” of 5'6”?

“I'm sorry, could you please help me?” she asks me in a soft voice. I stare at her stupidly for another minute or so before I can really comprehend that she's not slanderous towards me like the rest of the school. She gives me a quick worried glance at my silence before I can shake this confusion at, well, not kindness, but, politeness. Forgive me, but it's not something I've been accustomed to for quite awhile. Looking around quickly and determining that this wasn't some sort of sick joke I turn back around and face her.

I mumble, “Sorry, yeah, um...what do you want?”

She gets this amusing indignant look on her face, I'm guessing from my rudeness and replies, “I'm looking for a classroom, I'm new here and don't really know my way around yet”. After directing her to her next class, I immediately begin to briskly walk away to return to my comfortable world of solitude.

“Wait!” she calls after me, “I never got your name”.

I reply, “You don't need it”, and turn around the hall corner. I suppose by the looks of it she's not used to be treated so callously, but after what I've endured, I'm not really much of a people person anymore. After another moment of thought about my strange encounter with the girl, I retreat back to the seclusion of my mind and head to class myself.

The next day I saw her again. Then again the day after that, then again and again. It seemed to me that she now went out of her way to flag me down in the hallways. As much as I tried to avoid the girl, she managed to find me everywhere. Though I was almost glad to have someone I might be able to call a “friend” again, at the same time, I feared that when she found out about my not so secret secret that she'd treat me like everyone else does. I did do my best to keep people from seeing us together in public in order to keep her reputation safe. If she was seen with me, it's likely that she'd receive the same treatment as me, simply for associating with me. I did my best to keep her at a distance, but I have to admit, the girl grew on me. I meant to tell her my secret, but ultimately, feared rejection. But, I did plan to tell her, just, not the way that she'd actually found out.

I saw that creep that beat me up in the locker room threaten her. He had her trapped up against a wall in a corner and put his arm up as a way to prevent her from escaping. I couldn't really tell if there was terror or hatred in her eyes, but when I saw her clearly upset with him acting like this I froze.

“So baby, why do you hang around the queer?” asks the jock. She just gave him kind of an inquisitive look, as if she hadn't understood. Knowing fully well that this guy had just told her what I hadn't wanted her to know yet, I tried desperately to pick up on her body language of her reaction to the news. First, I saw a look of confusion, hurt, then her whole face contorted into a look of hatred. I hung my head, assuming that she was now one of them, however, then I heard her speak.

In a dangerously low voice she seethes, “You have no right to call him that”, and slaps him across the face. I was in shock. Never before had anyone ever stood up for me, yet here, this girl I didn't really even know, was defending me. She shoved him away from her and then grabbed my arm, turning on her heel walked off with me in tow. When she finally stopped flinging me around from side to side in her angry steps, she stopped and sat down. Looking up at me, she motioned for me to sit as well.

“Are you really gay?” she asks me in pure curiosity. Nodding, I look away expecting for the end of our friendship to be looming over me in this conversation of confrontation.

Ashamed, I say, “I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I was just...well, afraid that you might start to hate me too.” The look that crossed her face then was the same look she gave me all that time ago the first time I met her in the hallway, that adorably amusing indignant look she seems to have been able to master.

Slowly letting out a huge grin, she pokes me in the side and asks, “So then, do you like anyone?” Letting out a huge sigh of relief that she wasn't leaving me I reply, “Nah, the people here really aren't my type.” Laughing together like we had done so often before was more freeing than I had ever thought was possible. I was finally accepted.

From then on out, we were always watching each other's backs. Though people stopped picking on me all the time, I was still afraid because most had turned their attentions towards the girl. Passing people in the hall together, we'd hear words like “Slut, whore, faggot lover” and others thrown in her direction. Pretty soon, the girl who had once been friendly to nearly everyone, would only smile in my direction. I knew she was strong, she pretended the words didn't hurt her, but I knew exactly how she felt. I was responsible for it for I had brought this upon her. She always smiles at me reassuringly to let me know that this path in life is her own choice, so I let her do as she liked.

However, the next day at school she showed up with bruises all over her body and cuts in several places. “What happened?” I ask, but she refuses to answer my any questions. Given how coloured the bruises are, I know that they must be painful. Despite all of her smiles and promises that she would stand by my side, she kept on showing up to school with new bruises. I couldn't stand seeing her in constant physical pain from the beatings she received on my account.

One day, she had a particularly bad black eye once, and so in order to cheer her up a bit, I sang her a song. She was really surprised when I lead her to where I had left my guitar. Strumming a few intro chords, I take a deep breath and begin to sing to her.

you call out my name

reaching into the dark

you tell me to end this game

and get ride of the marks

you hold my hand

and give me someone to believe in

you mend my heart

and give me someone to trust

you take my mind

and show me the beautiful things

the moon is beautiful tonight

stars gleaming in the sky

you tell me everything will be alright

when staring up I get lost in myself and I say goodbye

you're always around

when I need someone there

I'm happy that I was found

It's like you came out of nowhere

into my life, but it's okay, because I like you here

you hold my hand

and give me someone to believe in

you mend my heart

and give me someone to trust

you take my mind

and show me the beautiful things

and you show me the beautiful things...

When I finish and look up, I see tears streaming down her face and she tackles me to the ground in a hug. Unsure of what to do or how to comfort someone physically, I just lamely pat her on the back. When she looks me in the eyes, she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I wasn't attracted to her physically, but emotionally, she radiated the strength and hope I had always hoped to have.

That night when I went hope I knew what I was going to do. That song had been my goodbye to the girl. Coming up on 3 AM, I sat with things strewn across my bed thinking. With resolve etched into my eyes, I began to prepare. Irony flooded my body when I realized I didn't know her name. All this time together, all these things endured, and we had never exchanged names! Somehow, it almost made sense in a way, what we shared together, was a friendship, a love, an understanding, and acceptance. We didn't need names for that, we spoke with our souls, not words. Hastily grabbing a pen and paper, I write a letter to her.

Dear Girl,

I wanted to say thank you for believing in believing in me. For reaching out when everyone else shunned, and for backing me up when everyone else beat me down. I've come to realize that as long as I am around, you will be in danger. So, I'm leaving here in order to protect you. I'd like you to live on and be happy for the both of us. I do not wish for you to be saddened over my choice in life, because I've always felt this is what it would lead to regardless. Apart from you, to me, there doesn't seem to be such a thing as happiness. You've given me all I could ask for. You accepted me.

Boy

Folding this note up, I carefully placed it on my desk where I knew it would be found and given to her. In one hand was a breathtaking picture of her, in the other, a bottle of pills. I threw everything that was on my bed onto the floor. Settling down comfortably, I place her picture on the bed next to me and I pick up a glass of water. I start taking the pills. I took one, then another, and another after that, and just kept going. My head was starting to get fuzzy, but downing the pills got easier and easier. I just lay there for a few minutes silently contemplating the fact that I was going to die here. My focus slid in and out before finally, I sent one last mental goodbye to the girl. The now empty pill bottle fell out of my hand and clattered to the floor.