Need help

Need help

When I couldn't take it anymore, I took molly. It helped calm me down at first, but eventually it only made it worse. The crash after the high was so intense I started having flashbacks of being submerged underwater, fighting against waves, my arms reaching blindly into nothing. I gasped for air as I relieved those memories, my body reaching its limits as pounding headaches rattled my brain.

"Come back to me! Don't go! I'm sorry I couldn't do more, I'm so sorry baby boy!" I screamed into nothing. "If I could go back and undo my mistake, if I could, if only I could... I need you here, I need you."

I was speaking to no one. They were both gone. There was nothing here for me anymore.

I popped pill after pill in my mouth. I needed everything to stop, I needed to stop feeling, I needed to turn back time, I need to fix what I'd done, I needed them back.

It was easier this way, it was better this way.

My phone kept ringing, and so I took pill after pill after pill. I slipped on the broken glass on the floor, my knees smashing against the shards. I felt no pain even though I could see blood pouring out of my legs. I got up and stumbled, falling right back down and hitting my head on the hardwood floor.

The world was spinning wildly. I suddenly felt an invisible force pulling me to sleep, dragging me to the floor. I fought against it by lifting my body up. I looked down at my hands and I was sweating profusely, my body reaching an alarming temperature.

What came next was the confusion. I didn't know what time it was, I didn't know what I had drank, I didn't know why I was sitting on the floor or why I was bleeding. When my heart suddenly started beating like I had been injected with adrenaline and the world around me became smaller and smaller, I was flooded violently with regret.

Oh no, what have I done?

I frantically reached for my phone, my body shaking everywhere. With blurry vision and shaky hands I called Kent. I held on to the edge of the kitchen counter, fighting to stay awake.

"Kent, I need help," I blurted out as soon as I heard him say hello. "I need help... I don't want to die."

"Felix, this isn't funny." He said. When he noticed I wasn't joking, his tone changed drastically. "What's going on? Felix... What happened?! What did you do?!"

Every time I blinked I saw blackness. It was hard to speak since my jaw was so stiff. "I took pills... Help me, I don't want to die, I don't want to die. I didn't tell him... About that day. He needs to know. I can't die."

"Oh no no no.... Felix! Where are you?!"

His voice sounded so distant, like he was speaking from the end of a long corridor.

"Home. Help me Maddox... I don't want to die."

I could hear my friend scream into traffic, his dry tires screeching on the road and his hand frantically pressing the honk. I lost strength in my hand and let go of the counter, collapsing on the floor.

"Felix, keep talking, stay with me!" Kent shouted on the other end. He sounded completely panicked. I blinked and tried to keep my eyes open, but it was stronger than me.

"I'm sorry Kent, for everything. I'm sorry."

"You're not fucking doing this to me! Fuck! Keep talking for goodness sake Felix! Say something, anything!"

I tried to open my mouth to speak but no sound came out. The last thing I remember before succumbing into darkness were my eyes wide open but seeing nothing.

Maddox

\---

I paced back and forth in the ER's waiting room. With my heart threatening to beat out of my chest from anxiety, a nurse was trying to call me down, saying that I had done the right thing, that I brought him in in time, that I did everything in my power to save my friend.

Despite her encouraging words, I felt like I was standing at the top of an abyss.

I went over my last interactions with Felix, painstakingly analyzing them, beating myself up for not seeing the pain behind my friend's eyes, not seeing the silent despair he was living in.

I bit my nails nervously as I sat down, jittering my legs restlessly. What could have triggered this? What broke him so much that he didn't see a way out? What drove him to not wanting to be here anymore?

I feared the worst, that the nightmares had returned, that the PTSD had come back full force, that he was isolating himself more and more. If that was the case, why didn't he reach out to me? He knew I'd never push him away or dismiss his feelings. What happened that day was serious. Even I had nightmares from time to time so I couldn't even imagine how it felt for him.

There had to be something else, something I didn't know.

As I waited, I was tempted to call Professor Durham. I stopped myself from doing so though. I didn't want to worry him. I'd give him a heart attack if he knew Felix was at the hospital having his stomach pumped after overdosing on alcohol and ecstasy.

My best friend was suffering, and not being able to help him or hold his hand was torture. He was in such critical condition that I wasn't allowed in with him as he was rushed inside. To make it worse, I wasn't even able to say anything to Felix because he completely lost consciousness inside the ambulance.

When a doctor came flying in through the doors, her eyes scanning the room, I was immediately back on high alert.

"Gary Kent?" She called as she read my name in a chart. I sprung to my feet, the people who I was sharing the waiting room with darting their eyes in my direction.

"That's me ma'am," I said, running my hand over my head. The anticipation of what she was about to say made me want to puke.