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“I’m sorry”
Those were Gabe’s last thoughts has the light drained from his eyes and his consciousness drifted away.
The morning before Gabe took his life, he woke up to Diana staring at him in his sleep, “Good morning, I was worried. You shouldn’t scare me like that, waking up late.”
She always was so worried about his death he wondered what would happen when he actually died, hopefully she would move on, not needing to protect him if he’s already dead.
He went down to the kitchen and saw Natalie at the counter. It was incredibly clear she hadn’t slept at all, probably busy with school work. His hope for her was that she wouldn’t have as much pressure if the only thing she had to live up to was a corpse.
“Morning sleepy head” Gabe greeted Nat. She only grunted as a reply, it wasn’t her fault she disliked him after all he took the attention she should have gotten. When he’s gone she can finally get the love she deserves.
Dan came down next, though upon seeing Gabe he immediately left. He never did want to interact with Gabe, since Diana gave him all her attention Dan figured he had to even it out and only give attention to Nat. This really didn’t upset Gabe though, he wanted someone to care for Nat and he got enough attention from Diana.
When it came time for school he diverged from his usual path and stoped into a gas station, going immediately for the bathroom and closing himself into the nearest stall. He pulled out the pencil sharpener from his pocket and carefully unscrewed the blade, once he got it out he just held it in his hand for a moment savoring the cold metal against his warm skin. He lowered his pants and boxers before swiping the blade across his already scarred thigh, the sting came and then died away leaving only a boost of clarity.
He always felt this way after cutting, it was like a drug. Why would he need to express his anger at anyone else and hurt them when instead he could just take it out on himself. He figured the joy it gave him was a gift from the universe for him repenting, but every time he thought that he couldn’t help but worry he was sounding like his mom. So instead of thinking anything he just slowly dragged the blade over a cut from yesterday and savored the feeling, a sick smile forming on his face as tears fell in time with the blood dripping from his leg.
He watch the blood bead for a moment and then dabbed the cuts dry with toilet paper and pulled back up his pants. He didn’t do any better job at cleaning the cuts but he figured they wouldn’t bleed through his pants and what would it matter anyways if he’s dead.
After he was done he walked back home, knowing his mom would be napping right now. He sneaked through the house and closed himself into the bathroom. “This is the last time I’ll see any of this again.” As he was planning his suicide he kept having that thought. It’s an odd feeling to know you’re doing something for the last time.
He opened the medicine cabinet, flinching at the loud creak it let out. He scanned for something that could do the job and landed on a bright pink box of allergy medication. He grabbed the box and sat on the cold tile floor. All the pills were still in their plastic casings, so he meticulously opened all 24 that were in the package, carefully lining them in a row.
He just stared at the tiny white pills for a moment wondering what he would do if they didn’t work. Eventually he cupped them all in his hand and swallowed them down with the excessive force it took to swallow all of them at once.
It took a moment for them to kick in and while he waited he worried he made the wrong decision, even considering forcing himself to purge them. But he thought of how much better it would be for everyone once he did this, and dug his nails under his skin instead.
Once they had begun to take effect his throat turned fully dry, as if someone had taken a sponge to it. His vision started to blur as his head swam. He finally realized what was really happening, he was dying. Who would’ve thought he would’ve been the one in the family to kill themselves, the golden child first to die. The golden child fixing everyone’s lives.
“I’m sorry. But I had to do it.”
He thought as he slipped away. Maybe he was just being selfish, and was too tired to keep on living. Who would ever know. You can’t ask the boy lying on the floor with blood draining from his face what his true intentions were.