I honestly can't say that I had a close relationship or knew much about his personal life, and I am embarrassed to say that I had him in my class for an entire semester without creating a solid relationship. One always questions if he/she could have made some type of difference or paid more attention. Were there obvious signs that we all missed? Did something traumatic happen in his life after he left middle school that caused him to take his own life?
Writing is therapeutic. I have had a very difficult time with his death, and I knew I had to write his story, and in my own way. This story is dedicated to him, and what I wish had really happened.
When
‘Sorry’ Isn’t Enough
“I’m sorry.” Evan starred at the last words he was ever
going to write, the curser blinking and waiting for his next thoughts. There was really nothing left to say. He had determined this was the only way out of
his head. Tears rolled rapidly down his
cheeks as he hit “Post” to let the Facebook world know “what is on his mind”.
Evan
turned off his monitor, wiping the tears from his cheek. He took one last long look around his
room. Trophies, plaques, and pictures
from baseball through the years filled his walls and bureau. He walked over to his dresser, picked up a
pic of him and his buddy Mario after the last game of the season, arms slung
around each other’s shoulders, and sat on the edge of his bed. His crying increased, and his heart
ached. He hated having to do this, but
he couldn’t seem to find another choice.
Evan
stood, replaced the picture on his dresser, and grabbed his backpack, hanging
it loosely from his right arm. As he
stood, he saw his reflection gazing back at him in the mirror that hung on his
closet door. A wreck. Red and puffy from the effort of crying. Eyes stared back, already haunted, the life
drained from them. He felt only a part
of the Evan he had known. He no longer
recognized the person he had been only months before.
Taking
one last look around his room, Evan walked out the door, closing it quietly
behind him, hearing a tiny click as the latch caught. He checked the time on his IPhone, which
illuminated the hallway. It was already
11:30. His parents were in bed, and he didn’t
want to wake them with any noise he created.
They might stop him, and ask him where he thought he was going at 11:30
on a school night. No, he would be quiet
as he always was.
Evan paused for
just a moment outside of their door, listening to the sounds of his mom snoring
and his dad turning over. He could ask
them for help. He could tell them he was
hurting. For just a moment, Evan held
his hand out, fist clenched and ready to knock. Knowing, though, that there was nothing they
or anyone else could do for him, he brought his hand back down to his side and continued
down the hallway, passing Jessica’s room as quickly as possible.
He thought suddenly of the day he taught her
to ride a bike. It brought a small burst
of emotion to his chest as he recalled her unsteady ride down the street, her
blonde pigtails trailing behind her, her giggle and excited screams calling out
to him as she said, “I’m doing it Evan, I am doing it!” He would miss her so much, but he knew she
didn’t need him as a good example. He
had screwed up his own life royally, and he wouldn’t do that to her, too.
It was time. He had made up his mind. Evan
started down the carpeted stairs, thankful they would stifle his steps on the
way out. At the foot of the stairs stood
his Golden Retriever, Champ, wagging his tail as always, ready for action and a
pat on the head. Evan was surprised
Champ hadn’t already curled up in Jess’ room for the night. He was usually asleep, half his body under
her bed, as soon as she trapped him in her room every night.
Evan took a moment
and sat at the bottom step. Champ came
over, nuzzling his head under Evan’s outstretched hand. Evan grasped Champ into his arms; a small sob
was muffled by Champ’s fur. He held onto
Champ for dear life for a few moments and then stood. He had to do it. He had to leave all of it behind.
The heat of day
still hung in the air as Evan pushed open the screen door and walked
outside. He had only a short walk to his
destination, and he felt his backpack to make sure everything was still in
place. His heart beat faster as he again
went over the plan in his head. He would
go under the bridge, the one leading to the school. The one he and everyone he knew in the neighborhood
used every day and had walked over a million times. His jumped on his skateboard, always at the
ready at the front door, and soared down his street. He was ready to get this over with. All of it.
Things needed to end. He had
suffered long enough.
In a matter of
only a few minutes, he was at his final destination. Evan slowed the board and hopped off,
catching the lip of the board in his left hand.
He had always been pretty good at skating. Had even thought that maybe one day he would
be sponsored. That wasn’t going to happen;
Evan had come to realize he wasn’t good enough for anything like that to happen
for him.
Evan walked under
the bridge, so quiet, so peaceful and empty at this time of night. He chose his usual spot, leaning up against
the cement backdrop, and pulled his knees up to hug them to his chest. He was alone.
There was no one here to talk him out of this, to stop him from his
choice. The tears began again. Great wracking sobs escaped Evan. He had never felt so alone, but he felt
peace. He felt relief. All of the pain would be over in just a few
minutes.
Evan unzipped the
bag and peered inside. It lay just where
he had placed it in the bottom of his backpack.
The light of the moon cast a glow on the weapon, his dad’s
revolver. Dad always kept guns in the
house. He was an avid hunter, a proud member
of the Armed Forces, and felt a duty to protect his family. Evan had taken the gun from its locked box
earlier in the week and searched the house until he had found the gun lock key
and then the ammo. Dad had taken
precautions, but Evan knew the right places to look for what he needed to
accomplish this mission.
Pulling the
revolver from the bag, Evan held it up to the light shining from the moon. He felt the power in the method he had
chosen. He knew it wouldn’t allow for
second chances; he hadn’t wanted to make any mistakes in this. It would be lethal the first time
around.
Evan checked the
chamber. All bullets were loaded and
ready. He had thought about this so
often he couldn’t’ believe the moment was actually here. This was going to happen. His pain was going to end. It wouldn’t matter anymore that Stephanie had
broken up with him and was now dating his former best friend from elementary
school. It wouldn’t matter that he had
failed English this semester. It
wouldn’t matter that he wouldn’t graduate on time now. He didn’t want to feel the disappointment he
and his parents felt in him anymore. He
hated when his Dad gave him that look that screamed ‘frustration’ without
saying a word. Evan wasn’t the
best. He wasn’t the brightest. He was nothing. He didn’t want people to hurt anymore from
his actions and the kind of person he was.
He could put an end to that. He
could make everything better and make them all happy.
Slowly, he brought
the weapon to his head and pressed the barrel into his temple. He held his breath, his finger on the
trigger. Sweat beaded on his forehead
and ran down his face and into his eyes, blending with his tears. Without any more thought, he closed his eyes
tightly and took a last, long, deep breath.
It was time.
“Evan! Evan!”
A panicked cry echoed into the depths below the bridge. Quickly, Evan brought the gun down to his
side and plunged it into his backpack, his heart raging in his chest, and
turned to the voice. He knew the small
sweet sound. It was Jessica, followed by
Champ. He couldn’t believe they were
here, and that Jess had seen what he had almost done. She ran down the embankment, her Hello Kitty nightgown
brushing the ground as Champ ran beside her, barking as he recognized Evan. As she neared, Evan could see she was crying,
the moonlight making her tear-streaked cheeks glisten.
“Evan! What were you doing? Why did you have Daddy’s gun? And why did you have it pointed like you
did?” She ran to him, hugging him to her
as he stood.
“Jess, what are
you doing out here? You are supposed to
be in bed!” Jess clung to him as Champ
nuzzled himself under Evan’s hand, licking him until Evan gave him a decent pat.
“I woke up because
Champ was outside my door, scratching and whining. I thought he just wanted in because I had
gone to bed without him. I didn’t know
what was happening.” She paused, taking a
huge gulp of air to try to steady her breathing, which was ragged due to the
sobs. “When I opened the door to let him
in, though, Champ ran down the stairs and to the front door, scratching to go
out, and he just kept looking back at me like I needed to come with him. He was whining and panting really heavy.”
Jess
continued. “He took off down the street,
so I chased after him. When he stopped
at the bridge, I could see you under there.
And with that gun pointed at your head.
I don’t understand. “ She looked up at Evan, fresh tears erupting
down her face as she clung to him even more tightly.
“I am so scared,
Evan. Were you going to shoot
yourself? Were you going to kill
yourself?” Jess’ chin trembled as she
stared up at him, waiting for a response.
His heart
broke. He hadn’t meant for his to
happen. He had thought he would come
down to the bridge and be alone in his peace.
He had no idea that Jess would follow him. Thank God she had come when she did. He couldn’t even imagine if she had found him
here after it was all over. Jess would
never forget that image.
Evan struggled for
words as he looked down at Jess, her arms wrapped tightly around herself in a
hug, clearly trying to calm herself. He hadn’t
really thought that someone cared about him this much. Sure, he knew they would be sad, but he had
reasoned that it would be for the best for everyone. Maybe he had been wrong.
Evan pulled Jess
closer to him, grasping her in a bear hug.
“I’m so sorry, Jess. I wasn’t
thinking. I am so very sorry.” He could feel her sobs, her anguish at
thinking her big brother was going to die, and his chest hurt, knowing he had
caused such pain.
Fresh tears for
his life, for knowing she saved him, washed down his face. He couldn’t do this to her. She didn’t deserve the kind of anguish his
death would bring. He would work everything
out. He would get help for his problems
that didn’t really seem all that big now, and make things better. He hated that she had seen him like this, and
he knew he never again wanted to cause her such pain. It was his job as big brother to be
there. To protect her. To show her the way. To set the example, the right one. The be the one who worked hard and persevered
no matter what obstacles came his way.
At that moment,
Evan vowed to himself and to God that he would get better. For Jessica, for his family, for his friends,
and most of all, for himself.
No comments:
Post a Comment