Warnings: Blood, self-harm, suicide ideation, descriptive suicide scenes.
Before y'all read it; if you feel down or blue, please talk to someone or find a healthy coping mechanism. I volunteer to be someone's virtual reader, in case someone wants it or needs it.
Life is difficult. That's common knowledge. Still, you didn't imagine that yours would last so little. It all was so fast yet so slow.
Despite being an outcast, creature, non-human, and weird school, Nevermore wasn't quite big on gore. Which you thought you'd change. Not everyone has seen a suicide scene. Certainly less that of a friend of theirs.
"Guess I'll do it today," you thought. It gave you peace. It really did. You had no more reason to feel dread or tiredness since everything would end soon. But of course, you needed to make sure you'd actually do it. You can never plan too much.
Wednesday noticed that you were in a better mood, as did Enid, Ajax, and Xavier... everyone knew you were happy. Which was weird because you were usually gloomy and serious. But they didn't mind. They didn't know your thoughts. They believed you were happier that day. In reality, you were just grateful to have your end so near.
You didn't let Wednesday touch you at all. She thought it was odd since you were usually the one craving for physical contact. Despite that, she accepted it. She didn't like affection too much herself, so it did not offend her. You just didn't want her to have a vision.
Miss Thornhill dismissed the class. You, like many others, gathered your stuff, packed it, and left. You went to your room, taking out the box where you kept all your letters. Letters you made for everyone. It was a little detail you wanted them to have, just in case they wanted to remember you. They were completely free to trash it.
You took them all, placing them in a little bag you had. You changed clothes, too. If you were going to die, it wouldn't be in this sickly blue uniform. You got some black jeans and a white shirt.
You had an eye for harm, much like Wednesday herself. Though yours was mainly a really bad coping mechanism. You wanted your death to be impressionable. And blood shows better on a white shirt.
Much like Enid and Thing, even, you had style. You were going to be found looking good despite death. Fuck death and life.
You threw the bag over your shoulder, across your chest. It was chilly, and you wanted to feel it. Feel something. Anything. Even pain was better than nothing.
You took one last look at your ordered room before closing the door, for the last time.
You decided that the next thing you'd do was visit the library. You went there sometimes when things were bad. It gave you comfort for a final time, as well as nostalgia. You hoped the books wouldn't miss you too much.
It was empty this time, not even a couple having extreme displays of affection on the back. You turned around, bidding a mental goodbye. If you took too long you wouldn't get to the place in the forest by sunset.
You reached into your bag, taking out a bottle of painkillers. You took enough to make you drowsy, but not to kill you, yet. You just wanted your blood to thin, and anything else needed a prescription.
Sunsets were early, especially during winter. By 16:00, there'd be no more light. It was barely 3, and snow covered the way. You needed to be quick.
You arrived at Xavier's. You knew he'd be in fencing, probably, or painting. You took your chance and slid the letter under the door.
Enid, Yoko, and Ajax, they all received one. You even wrote one for Thing. Your hand was complaining, but you cared not.
You entered Wednesday's room, seeing no one. You expected that. They were busy women. You left Enid's at her bed. Wednesday's and Thing's were on her bed.
You gave their room one final look, taking some time to let your mind be filled with good, past memories. You couldn't help but fill your senses with her side of the room. You hoped Wednesday wouldn't miss you too much. She wouldn't, probably.
You walked to the balcony, stepping through the glass window. One final look at the quad, and you'd be off to the forest. It made you smile now, instead of a scowl. Life always goes on. It was especially demonstrated by the quarrel excited teenagers make when with friends. You wouldn't be too missed.
You returned inside. You had wasted too much time already. It was still empty, so you took your chance. Having someone find you right now won't be nice.
You ran until you reached the forest. Then, with the last minutes of sunlight, you directed yourself to the clearing a little far off. It was peaceful, really peaceful.
Now, you had to choose what to do. Quickly. Blood was always the prettiest way.
You started by cutting yourself on the forearm, vertically. It hurt, but not as much as you had expected. It felt good. You knew it'd last a while.
Your shirt was already blooded a little, just like the snow beneath you. All crimson. Your other arm made it redder. It was pretty. Hm. You wouldn't know what Wednesday would think of this. Would she see it as a feeble attempt to scream for attention? Would she like to see the ostentatious scene of a suicide in the woods? Would she care?
You took the rest of the pills. If one thing doesn't kill you, the other one certainly would. It made you smile to be so peaceful. You sat on the ground, despite the cold, taking in the picturesque scene of the sun kissing the moon goodbye. Much like you and Wednesday, it was time for the night to come.
You closed your eyes when you felt dizzy, deciding that lying on the snow wouldn't hurt you. Or save you. You wanted the peace you were finally taking for yourself.
Wednesday felt uneasy. It was strange. She wanted to brush it off, except she didn't. She's not the feeler type, so whenever she felt something so strong she knew she had to act on it. She learned that from you.
She walked quickly through the quad and the halls, searching for you. She did not see you. Intending to find you, she walked even faster. But you weren't there, at yours. Must be at hers.
She opened the door before her, not bothering to fully close it. Expecting to find you on her bed, she looked to her right. However, you weren't there. Despite your absence, she noticed the presence of two differently colored letters on her desk.
"For Wednesday", one said. The other one was addressed to Thing. Said appendage climbed up Wednesday's arm, resting on her shoulder as they looked at the letters.
She took hers, and let Thing be.
How are you? I hope you're doing well. I trust that you will be able to find who the Hyde is. Yeah, I sneaked around a bit. But don't worry. I won't burden you.
Don't try to find me. But who am I to tell you what to do, anyway? You always do what you want. That's also one of the reasons why I liked you so much. It's odd, right? Hopefully, you'll get used to past tenses.
I love you, a lot. I hope you know that I'll never truly be gone unless you want me to. I have no problems with that either. Burn this letter, if so you will. No flames will stop me from loving you, but yours.
For being so hateful of affection, you're the clingy type, Wednesday. But in a terribly endearing way. Feel free to take all the coats and jackets you want. I know you have interesting likes, so, if you want, keep my bones too, or whatever. I'm tryna be nice.
Don't miss me too much. (Yes, I'm flattering myself that much.)
She had only felt this much sadness once before, and she didn't like it. Not again. It made her panic inside. She knew you weren't always at your best, but she didn't imagine she'd have to bid goodbye so soon. She was not willing to take it.
She tried to think like you. Where would you go? What place would you select for your demise? She was desperate, and she hated that feeling.
She turned around, intending to head out of her room. "Has to be the forest", she thought. She slammed behind her. Damn. This was, probably, the only time when she wanted to have a vision. She didn't expect this to be the reason for her first-ever wish of a premonition.
Maybe Enid's nose could be of help. She ran to the quad, where she knew Enid would be. Wednesday took Enid by the hand, uncaring of whatever the werewolf was doing. She was about to complain, but the expression on the shorter girl's face was too indecipherable. She looked worried, angry, sad, and murderous at the same time. Quite the emotional mix for her.
Enid wanted to tease, but she knew better than to do that. It was good that you spent that much time in their room. Now, Enid could just tell where you were, since she remembers your smell.
And they were quick. Enid was surprised that you had gone out that far. But she understood why quickly. The smell was quite strong, but it was nothing compared to the red mess she saw before her. Wednesday was already expecting it, as bad as it sounded.
She kneeled by your side, checking your heart rate. With how cold you were, she was surprised you were still the littlest bit alive. She sighed in relief as her eyes watered.
—We can't wait any longer—, her voice was shaky. She gulped, forcing herself to be composed. —I can't carry her. Can you? Please.
Enid did not have to be told twice. Wednesday took off her coat, draping you in it before Enid took you in her arms. She didn't like to hear Wednesday pleading. It wasn't her.
They reached the school more rapidly than they reached you. She hoped she wasn't too late. The nurse was surprised when they arrived with you so suddenly. Still, work needed to be done.
Wednesday sat aside, watching everything happen in front of her. She wanted to scream off her voice until she'd be as silent as you. She took a moment to calm herself, deciding that the best thing she could do was patch your arm while the nurse did the other arm. Silently, they worked faster.
Of course, Wednesday had called for an ambulance to get you to the hospital. Now you just needed to wait. Time had never been such an unpleasurable torture before.
Everyone was shocked. It was not what they were expecting. But knowing you, they were sure you did not want pity. They were patiently waiting for your return.
Except Wednesday, regarding the "patiently" part. She was counting every second, exactly. All of her free time was spent with you. Sometimes, when she was left alone with you, she'd talk to you. It was better than any therapy Jericho could offer.
She was glad you weren't lucky enough to get away with your plans. The dosage was too little, and, despite deep, the cuts weren't enough to end you. Maybe the cold would've been the one to take you out. She looked at you once more, feeling glad that she was able to find you before it was too late.
Enid watched through the glass window, sighing. Ajax nodded and they stood there, in the hall just outside of your room. They hugged for a while before entering the room.
As expected, Wednesday was there.
—Hey. We brought some food, and a quad—, Enid said. Ajax nodded and held up the drink and bag. Wednesday pointed to the little table on the back side of the room.
They just smiled in return.
—Just know that we're here whenever you want to not talk.
Wednesday looked at you, but eventually agreed. She knew she could, possibly, count on them. She closed her notebook, leaving it on top of the chair she was using before eating the food they'd given her.
She had been so preoccupied that her appetite had eluded her. It was taking a toll on her now. She had to take better care of herself if she wanted to take care of you later.
After a while of mainly them talking, and Wednesday listening, Enid and Ajax returned to Nevermore. She was alone with you, again. She liked her moments with you. She smiled and took the chair right next to you.
She decided that perchance it would be okay if she slept there, taking your hand in hers. So she did. She took your hand in hers and crossed her arms for (mostly un)comfortable sleep to overcome her.
Hours later, Wednesday woke up to some strange sensations. It was none other than you, caressing her hand. She almost cried.
She looked at you, watery eyes and quivering lip included. You had so little energy your only expression was that of guilt. She wanted to scream at you for being so stupid, but she contained herself. This was neither the place nor the moment.
—I'm sorry, Wednesday—, was the first thing you said. It made her furrow her brows.
—As you should be—. Her words were rough, but you knew that was just how she was. She was a prickly rose, however painful, yet still, a rose. —I'm just glad you're alive.
—Death does not suit me alone—. You wanted to cry. You let your tears fall, yet maintained eye contact. Tears meant so little now. —Thank you for being here, Wednesday. I know it was difficult for you. I'm sorry for burdening you once more. I-
—Shut up—, she said in a weak voice. It was almost a whisper. Her hand gripped yours tighter, but still gently enough. —Never do this again, or I'll...—, she paused. Torturing you would be your pleasure, so that was not an option. —I'll make you record those goddamn TikToks Enid never shuts up about—. It was a threat that came out of love, so you nodded, smiling.
—I see Enid is still the same Enid. Just like you're still my moon.
You shook off her hand, only to caress her cheek softly. She did not push you away. It made you wonder just how much you had hurt her.
The looks she gave you were equal to all the kisses you could ask. It was one step further in the healing of your soul. You smiled again.
—Can I hug you?—, you asked. —I want you to hug me, but if not, then maybe just let me do it?
She responded by wrapping her arms around your waist. It nearly made you cry again. The moon could, sometimes, be as warm as the sun, just like the sun could be as obscure as the moon.
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