You're My Reason Why

Loneliness is something that almost everyone has felt in their life at some point or another. Although many people have felt it, it is still hard to describe. Many have tried in their own way, but it is hardly ever all-encompassing. My best description of it feels as if you are in the dark and cold, but you see the light. You can almost feel the warmth on your face, but you can never quite reach it no matter how hard you try. You can run towards it going 100mph but still never get to it. The reason why it hurts so much is you remember feeling the light shining on your face. You remember the warmth wrapping around you like a hug. You crave it and want to feel it again, but something keeps telling you that you will never know that feeling again. The saddest part is sooner or later, part of you starts to believe the voice was saying you will not reach the light, and you slowly begin to give up. Or at least I did. June 18 was the day I admitted defeat and listened to the voice saying that you'll never reach it. Before that day, I was your average teen, I had a good family life, and I was good at school. I had acquaintances who I would talk to every day, but I didn't really have what you would call friends. My family wasn't wealthy, but we were stable. I never went without. I also didn't get everything I ever asked for, either. I loved and hated school at the same time. I was smart, not like genius smart, but I got an A in every class without studying smart. I loved to read and spent my lunches in the library reading almost anything I could get my hands on. As a kid, I hated to read, but after a while, I started to see myself in the books I read. They seemed to transport me to far off lands and to different times. They were my escape!

One I desperately needed. This is due to the reason I hated school. I was bullied. Yes, yes, I know. "Everyone gets bullied at one point or another." "You need to toughen up, being bullied builds character." I have heard this and many things like it before. When I say bullied, I should say abused. I was hit, punched, kicked daily. I was told I was worthless and stupid. That I was a waste of space and that no one would ever love me. I listened to this every day for seven years for the person I thought was my friend. My best friend. I didn't know that this was normal. Before her, I never had any friends, so I didn't know what to expect. Then I moved to a different state for a few years. I made great friends, and I was truly happy, almost at peace. However, it wasn't meant to last. I was sent back home to live with my dad while my mom traveled for work. So I went back to the same school with the same "friends" as before the move. It was a total nightmare! After knowing what real friendship was, it was hard going back to the abuse. It was like being surrounded in the darkness, just begging for warmth and love. On June 18, I decided that I couldn't take it anymore. I could not stay not having any friends and feeling so alone. I decided to end my life. At this point, I was not thinking about the family I would leave behind and how they would be broken from my absence. No, I was selfish because I wanted it to end. I want it all just to be over. I had decided that drowning would be my best option; that way, my family wouldn't be horrified when they had to identify my body. I ended choosing the local marina as the place. I was a great swimmer from years of the swim team, and the water always made me calm and warm. So I walked to the end of one of the slips and just jumped in. I looked up as the bubbles that surrounded me.

"How pretty," I thought as I saw them float to the surface.

"This is it. It's all going to end. I'll finally be at peace."

My lungs started to burn as they filled with fluid as I sank deeper into the water. The sun shone through the water, making me feel warm in the freezing water. I closed my eyes and embraced death.....

However, that was not what the universe intended for me. I awoke in a bed with a tube down my throat with wires and IVs. I was in a hospital. I would know the sound and smell of one better than my own home. I had spent so much of my life visiting my mother in one. She's an ICU nurse and a damn good one at that. I knew the tube in my throat was a ventilator, and it was breathing for me. I looked around, trying to remain as calm as possible. Someone was sitting in a chair next to me, snoring. The source of the sound was a boy. About my age, he was mumbling and holding my arm in his sleep. He looked as if he hadn't showered in a while. He seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite place where I knew him from. He seemed kind, and his touch felt so warm. It was the same feeling I had been trying for so long to feel again. I watched him for what seemed like an eternity I ended up watching his chest rise and fall as he slept because his breathing was so calming. I was so focused on him. I didn't even notice when someone else entered the room.

"You're awake," a voice said from the doorway. It snapped me back to reality, and it seemed to wake the boy. He looked up at me, still half asleep.

"Hi," he said, sounding quite groggily.

I tried to reply, but then I remembered I was still on the ventilator, so instead, I just kind of waved.