They say that between the ages of 14 and 18 were probably were the worst in your life. Not only were you going through all these different changes, but you were also dealing with school and bullying. It didn't matter how popular you were, there was always a bully perfect for someone. You were one to hover just below the bullies radar. Doing that, you hardly ever got picked on. You didn't have many friends because of it, but the friends you had were all you need. Your best friend, Matthew Williams was one that got bullied constantly. And when nobody was picking on him, he was being completely ignored, except by you of course. It killed you, knowing that Matthew was going through this hardship. His older brother was no help to him, and that made you fume.
It was just a few weeks into senior year, and already the bullying started. And who would they attack first then shy, weakling Matthew. He was often harrassed by the Bad Touch Trio. Not only the three biggest pervs in the school, but they were also the three biggest bullies in high school. No one ever stood up to them, since they were all pretty tough. You wanted so badly to change that, but you didn't know what they would do to you.
You and Matthew were walking home from school one day in complete silence. Neither one of you have had a normal conversation ever since you both started high school. The silence was then broken by your voice.
"I'm sorry, Matthew," you said in a tiny voice, clutching your books closer to your chest. Matthew looked over at you in confusion.
"For what, ______?" he asked in the same shy, and distant voice. You wiped away a tear from your eye and sighed shakingly.
"For never standing up to your bullies. I feel awful that your going through all of this, and I'm just sitting back and watching like it's a movie," you spilled out to him, keeping in your tears.
"______. You know that none of this is your fault. I know how you are, and that's why I don't expect you to do something that you're not comfortable with," he responded back to you, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving you a smile. Little did you know that the smile was fake. You nodded and turned to face him.
"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then," you smiled one last time at him before you turned away and started off to your home. Matthew also began his walk home, a plan forming in his mind. You didn't know it, but Matthew was suffering from massive depression and stress. So much so, that he just couldn't take it all anymore. He wanted it to go away. He wanted it all to go away.
----Time Lapse: That Night----
You had just gotten off the phone with your friend Elizabeta, and yawned loudly. I guess I'll turn in for the night. You looked at the clock and saw the glowing green numbers; "8:00 p.m." staring at you. You sighed. It's too early for bed. Maybe I should go check on Matthew. You jumped off your bed and slipped on your tennis shoes. You had been worried about your Canadian friend ever since you had said goodbye to him that afternoon. You knew he was hiding something from you, and you wanted to go over to his house to make sure he wasn't doing anything stupid.
You told your parents where you were going and left the house, speed walking to Matthew's house. You didn't live very far from him, but every second did count for you. With each step you took, the knot that had formed in your stomach tightened. That was never a good sign, and it made you gulp dryly.
You walked up to Matthew's door and knocked on the door.
"Matthew! It's _______. Are you home?" you called as you continued to knock. No answer. Fear struck you like lightning. I really do hope he isn't doing something stupid. You pounded on the door harder.
"Dammit, open this door now, Matthew!" you yelled. Still no answer. You grabbed the door knob and turned in sharply, finding in to be unlocked. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest as you took a few steps into the dark home. You cautiously looked into the living room, then the kitchen, and then the den, but there was no Matthew. The last place to look was his bedroom. Before you could proceed up the stairs, there was a loud thud.
"Matthew!" you cried out, running up the stairs to the room where the thud came from. When you opened the door, you were greeted with a horrific sight. Matthew was lying on the floor, both of his wrists slit open and blood oozing quickly from them. You screamed in terror and kicked the knife, that had fell from his hand, out of sight and ran to his sight.
"Hang on, Matthew!" you said, grabbing his bed sheets and wrapping them around his wounds. His eyes were already half lidded and his breathing was slowing. Tears flowed like rives from your eyes as you watched your best friend, slowly dying before you.
"No more pain, ______......," he said quietly, his voice breaking. You noticed that the bed sheets were already drenched with the crimson liquid, and you didn't know what else to use.
"You can't die, Matthew! Please don't die!" you screamed at him, more and more tears cascading from your eyes, "please....don't die...," your voice died down to a soft whisper. You couldn't give up, that just wasn't you. You unwrapped the bed sheets from his slits, and noticed dozens of scars on both of his arms. He's been cutting...How could I not have noticed this before? You ran into the hallway bathroom and gathered as many towels as you possibly could and beelined it back to the room.
You continued to replace the towels if one got too bloody. Finally, there was nothing left you could do. His eyes were finally closed and his breathing came to halt.
"I'm sorry I wasn't a good friend to you, Matthew. I'm so....so...sorry....," your upper body collapsed on his chest as you continued to sob over your deceased friend. The only thing you could say was how sorry you were for everything. The bullies. The torment. The lack of support.