During my first year of high school I had befriended a young, beautiful girl named Alexis. She was one of those friends that I just immediately clicked with. She had short black hair that was constantly straight, always brushing her chin when she turned her head.
Her eyes were the most brilliant shade of blue with what seemed to be purple hidden in her light irises, and her skin was a soft white ivory. Over all her appearance made all the boys at our school swoon for her. She was an honor student, always maintaining a 4.0 and she had the most amazing personality.
She had the ability to always appear happy and confident, and always willing to help anyone who needed it. But notice I said appear happy, really she was hiding a dark secret. My sweet, beautiful friend had been suffering from manic depression most of her life keeping it hidden from all, including me.
I could tell something was wrong but I never could figure out what it was until that one fateful day cam. I was sitting in my room, angry that I had failed another test, when I got the phone call. Alexis had been left home for a week alone when her parents went on a vacation. Her parents had asked me to run over to their place to check on Alexis because she hadn’t answered her phone in two days.
This alone scared me. I was a little worried that she didn’t show up at school but I had assumed she was sick and when I texted her and didn’t get a response my first thought was “oh she’s asleep, I suppose I should leave her be” and that was the end of that, but she always, always answered for her parents. I got up and quickly got my shoes and such on and I was out the door telling my parents I would explain later. I ran to her house not stopping for anything.
When I got to her red door I knocked and knocked and when I didn’t get a response I checked to see if the house was locked, and of course it wasn’t. I walked in and shouted her name a couple of times. I checked all of downstairs and couldn’t find her. When I was about to go up her carpeted staircase I was stopped, dead in my tracks by a rancid smell, the same kind as dead fish. I plugged my nose and slowly crept up the stairs, still shouting her name and still getting no response.
The smell was so strong that even breathing through my mouth I could still smell it, and the smell was coming from her room. Not good. Her room never smelled like that. I pushed open the a little at a time afraid of what I might find. What I found was worse than what I ever could have imagined. There Alexis lay, bathed in a puddle of her own, mostly, dry blood.
I began to dry heave, glad I hadn’t eaten that day. Her arms and legs were covered in cuts and scars but the biggest source from which the blood flowed from was her throat. She had a long deep cut going from one side of her neck to the other. I was now sobbing looking into her dead, blue eyes wondering how I never noticed, how I never put two and two together and notice why she always wore pants and long sleeve shirts, why she always pulled at her sleeves, and why she would disappear to the bathroom when she was feeling sad.
I felt like the worst friend ever. I quickly called nine one one and her parents to deliver the bad news and then I called my parents to come and get me so I wouldn’t have to look at her dead, tear streaked face, so I wouldn’t have to see the dry blood pooling from her mouth and matting her hair to her face and her clothes to her skin. I couldn’t take it I just couldn’t. I just sat there staring at her before my parents got there and in doing so I noticed a piece of paper in her hand. I quickly pulled it from her fingers trying not to look at her as I did so. The piece of paper read:
Dear whomever finds this note,
I’m truly sorry for leaving you like this but I just couldn’t take the pain anymore. If this isn’t Josh (Me) then please tell him that I wish I he wouldn’t have to deal with this loss and that this isn’t his fault. And please tell him that even though he was my best friend that I love him. I love him more than I should and I just wish that this could have gone differently so I may have had a chance to be with him. Josh, I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.
My friend Joshua sent me his story and I asked if I could upload it and get the word out and with a very sad yes that’s just what I did. This story will always be a part of my life because I love my friends so much and I hope that this story actually helps people out there to get some help. If you or anyone else is feeling as though you need someone please get some help, people out there, even complete strangers, want you to live your life not end it. I went through self harm problems and I eventually got help and I haven’t had a relapse in almost five months.