Enough Reasons To Die

by Script Singer

Reason 6: Communication

What’s the point in trying to communicate if I can’t find the right words? Whenever I try to explain what’s going on it just goes all wrong and backfires on me.

---

I walk down the school hallway, heading into the counseling room to speak to someone about my problems. A few of my friends managed to talk me into it so I decided I would at least try.

I knocked on the door and waited for someone to reply.

“Come in.”

I opened the door trying to put a smile on my face, but could hardly manage to keep it like that.

“Hello, Script!” He uttered. “Is everything alright?”

I took a seat as I rubbed my neck slightly. “Well, not exactly…” I muttered. “I haven’t really been myself as of late.”

“What do you mean?”

I stared at the floor as I struggled to find my words. “It’s just that… It’s like… Ugh, I don’t know anymore…”

Why couldn’t I just open up to him? I chose to come here, so why can’t I find the right words to say? I think to myself.

“Well, how are you feeling right now?”

“Like right now?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

I let out a sigh as I tried to think of what to say. “Lost… I guess? Empty if that makes sense…”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s like I don’t really care anymore.”

“Don’t care about what?”

“Anything I guess…” I let out a sniff as I said that. “I just need it to stop…”

“Need what to stop?”

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I broke down crying. “I need everything to stop… I can’t take it anymore… I don’t wanna be here anymore…”

“Script, that’s something kinda serious to say.” The counselor looked at me with a look of concern. “You’re not thinking of…”

“No,” I said, interrupting him. “I didn’t mean it like that, I mean, I’ve considered it in the past but I know it’s not a good idea.”

“What do you mean by considering it?”

I grabbed a tissue as I continued speaking. “Sometimes a suicidal thought would just pop up into my head but I would just quickly push it away and list the reasons why I shouldn’t do it.”

Lately, it feels like those thoughts are growing stronger. Like they’re overpowering me. I wanted to tell him this, but I couldn’t figure out how.

“Is there something on your mind?” He asked.

“Yeah, I just don’t know how to say it…” I muttered. “It’s like there’s a door blocking the way of me trying to open up.”

“Do you want to see if we can try to see what’s behind the door?”

“I don’t know…” I sighed. “It’s hard to explain, maybe coming here wasn’t a good idea anyway…” I said getting up to open the door.

“You sure? I’m here if you still need to talk.”

“I’m getting kinda hungry, I might as well go to lunch.” I fibbed.

I walked out of the door before he could say another word.

---

I sit at the lunch table, poking at my food with my fork. Radioflash sat down his tray and sat down next to me. I only continued poking my food not noticing him.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke up.

“Script,” Radioflash uttered.

I continued poking at my food but mumbled in response.

“Are you feeling okay? You haven’t really been eating that much lately.”

“I’m fine,” I muttered trying not to snap at him.

“You sure?”

“Mmhm…”

“Script, we’re worried about you.”

I threw my fork in frustration. “I said I’m fine! What part of that do you guys not understand?!”

I just stared at my friend. Radioflash is one of my few friends who has seen me at my worst and I hated that he would see me like this. I let out a sigh as my ears folded back.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled…” I muttered. “I’m just stressed out about school, that’s all…”

“Script,” Radio uttered. “You know you can always talk to us if you need to.”

“I’ll be fine, thank you,” I said as I got up throwing my lunch in the trash. “I should go study for the test today.” I fibbed as I began walking away.

I rushed over to a nearby tree and just sat myself down and began to sob.