“...is less pathetic and worthless than mine, but if it isn’t well I’m sorry… Goodbye.”
Tears fell onto the page as I finished reading my brother’s last words at his wake. I couldn’t stop shaking as my mother came up to console me. Then, suddenly, a surge of anger awakened inside me.
“Why”, I screamed.
“WHY DID NONE OF YOU HELP HIM?!”
No one answered. Not one of his many “friends” could answer the little girl crying for an answer.
“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE HIS FRIENDS, BUT HE HATED LIFE AND HAD NO ONE,” I cried as my mother began to pull me away. Tears rolling down her face as well. The rest of the day went as a blur.
I don’t remember yesterday very well. I don’t even remember why I read my brother’s last words. I don’t even know why I am so angry with his friends for not helping him...maybe it’s because of the immense guilt I feel for not being better than them.
As my brother’s casket is being lowered into the ground I can’t help, but think I could’ve done something for him. All he needed was someone to be there for him, and I failed him. That’s something I will always regret.
Now the only relationship I can have with Christian is through a tombstone.
“I’m sorry Christian...I wasn’t there for you... I’m so sorry I wasn’t there…”
Author's Note:
The purpose of this short story was not to depress you. It was to show you that people can slowly lose themselves. No matter how many friends they had, no matter how great their life seemed, anyone could be going through a personal battle. And if you are one of those people and are on the verge of ending it all...there are people who love you. It may not seem like it, but there are many people who love and care for you.
ns 15.158.61.45da2
