Death Wish - Cover

Death Wish

Copyright© 2019 by Daedra

Chapter 1

Hi, my name is Nathan. I am 17 years old and a sophomore in my local high school. Naturally, you will assume that I might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer because most guys my age are at least juniors. After my freshman year, I was in hospital for about 6 months. I have to admit, that it was not really a normal hospital. At least not after the first few weeks. After that I was transferred to a ... how shall we call it? ... loony bin ... yeah, that fits. My stay there was due to my second attempt to off myself. I know, I know, a typical case of teenage drama resulting in a cry for attention. You can admit that you thought exactly that.

Now that you have thought about that for some seconds, I can tell you that you are wrong. I did not want any attention, I genuinely tried to kill myself. I was not very capable of doing it. The first time I stole a box of sleeping pills from my mother. Unfortunately, I was dumb enough to just take those pills before going to bed, not anticipating my dad to check on me later. He saw the box and the empty strips on my nightstand and immediately tried to wake me. When I would not wake up he called 911, pulled me up and stuck a finger in my throat. As I am still here telling this story, you might already have an idea how that worked out for me.

After that, I got some counseling and my parents were on guard for several weeks. In the end, everything went back to normal, whatever that is, rather quickly. Nobody, not even my shrink, showed any real interest regarding the reason why I tried to kill myself. Who wants to deal with something like that? It is simply easier to pretend that everything is normal.

My second attempt, one year later, was simply stupid. While my parents were out for the evening, I went to the garage, got into mom’s car and started it. I got the pipe, that I had put into the garage earlier that day, connected it to the exhaust and put the other end through the passenger side window. After entering the car, I closed everything as tide as possible and waited for the carbon monoxide to kill me. Overall it was a sound plan. Except for the fact that I did not account for the fact that my mother’s car was fairly new and therefore had quite a low emission level. All I achieved until my parents got back home was to get unconscious.

Back to the hospital it was. The same shrink came to talk to me. I could have done a better job of doing that. Apart from having a massive headache from the fumes I inhaled, that stupid fucker was trying to give me an aneurysm from all the bullshit he tried to feed me. When he noticed that I obviously did not care about what he was telling me, he apparently took note that I was a general risk for myself or something like that. My parents followed his advice and admitted me into a mental hospital for stationary care.

Half a year I spent there. Therapists talked to me, nurses talked to me and fellow patients talked to me. Guess who did not talk to me during that time. Yep, got it in the first try ... my fucking parents. Why the fuck had they even called 911 if they did not want to take part in my life afterward.

Since my second attempted suicide, I have been having headaches. Somehow I know that I deserve that for my stupidity. Why the hell did I not look up suicide methods on the internet? Two attempts, both times found by my parents in time. Sometimes I just want to run outside and scream.

Some of you might be asking yourself, why I tried to off myself twice. Good question. Obviously, I know the answer. I just have no idea how to tell you guys. Ah, fuck. I am a pervert, of the worst kind. I have never told anyone else, but I am lusting after my sister, big time. That happens to the best of us, you say? It is normal to feel attracted to relatives, you say? Yeah, I tried telling that to myself. Directly afterward I remember that she is not just my sister, but also only 14 years old. That makes me a double pervert. Is that a valid expression? Who cares?

Okay, confession time. I am not just lusting after my underage sister. To me, she is the most perfect human being in existence. She is warm and kind, generous and polite, gorgeous and cute, intelligent and well-spoken. I could go on and on. I love her. Not just as a brother. It makes me miserable. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to live in the next room to the person you love the most in this world and you have no chance to even tell that person? I would give anything to not be her brother. I did not manage to kill myself, but I was dying inside bit by bit every day. I hated my life.

Fuck. Break time. I need to cry a little. Feel free to get something to drink or go take a leak. You may continue reading in about 5 minutes.

I hope you are prepared because I am. Got me some soda and chips.

Some of you might be wondering why I am jumping from past tense to present tense, aren’t you? That is because it happened in the past and I am writing it down now. My now, not your now. My shrink would love this. Bob, I hope you will read this sometime.

The rents went on with their life as if nothing had happened. Sarah, my sister, more or less ignored me. We did not fight, we did not argue, we did not spend time together, we just co-existed. That might have been mainly my fault. I possibly put some distance between us and built some emotional walls to be able to protect my fragile mind and soul from the emotional anguish of my unrequited love.

After my time in the hospital, I went back to school. Even though it was guaranteed that I had to repeat my sophomore year, my parents and teachers decided, that it would be good for me to finish the last couple of months of the school year. They thought I would be ahead of my classmates if I already knew most of the stuff. What they did not anticipate was the reaction of my so-called friends when they got to know the reason for my absence. Even my best friends thought that I just wanted some attention.

While sitting in my math class one day I got a strange feeling. It was as if my gaze was drawn to Heather. Although she is a cutie, she is not my type. You can read that as “ she is not my sister”. When I looked onto her, it was as if my chest was compressed and it felt like the room was shrinking. I was near panic. There was no way for me to look away. My entire being was focused on Heather. Suddenly I saw flashes of pictures, accompanied by a feeling of hopelessness that nearly overwhelmed me. Don’t ask me how I knew, but I was certain that the feeling came from her.

All of a sudden I felt totally calm. The change was so unexpected that I nearly jumped from my chair. With the calmness came the picture of a gun lying in a desk drawer. The whole surreal situation had me utterly confused. What the hell was going on?

The problem was, that I knew this feeling of calmness. I had felt it twice before. In contrast to those times, it was not comforting to me, as it told me that Heather just came to the decision to kill herself. Of that I was sure, and I had no idea what to do. Having been there twice I decided to confront her.

I had no plan. I was not prepared to deal with Heather’s problems. I was not even equipped to deal with my own demons, much less those of someone else. My shrink would have thrown a fit if he knew what I planned to do. In my state of mind, I did not think of all those things. All I could think about was, that I did not want Heather to kill herself.

Before I knew it, I was standing in front of her and her two BFFs, or whatever they were, not knowing what to say. At that moment something went on autopilot. There is no other explanation to how I managed to talk to a girl that was totally out of my league in front of her friends and dozens of other people.

“Hey Heather”, I said.

“Hey Nathan. Is everything OK with you? You are looking kind of pale.”

“I just wondered if you had a couple of minutes to talk privately.”

“What about?”

“Heather, if I wanted everyone to know, I would have just told you here and now.”

Her friends were staring at me, their mouths open. They probably thought that I lost my mind and wanted to ask Heather for a date.

“Sure,” she said, “how about we take a walk to the library? We can either talk on the way or at the library.”

Well, do not ask me how that happened. Was it the look on my face or my rather rude talking to her? Nevertheless, we were soon on our way to the library.

“Um, Heather, um...”

“Nathan, what the fuck is up with you?”

“This is a difficult topic and I have no fucking idea on how to broach it.”

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