TRIGGER WARNING: talks of suicide
I’m sitting crisscrossed applesauce on the floor of my bedroom. I look around. The Hello Kitty pillow on my bed that I’ve had since I was five. A family picture of the four of us on our London vacation last year. My unfinished chemistry homework on my desk. Dirty school clothes scattered across the floor. The lavender scent coming from my essential oil diffuser. There’s almost silence. No one is home. All I hear is the sweet song of wind chimes outside my window.
I stare at the family picture. Mom’s arm around me. Dad behind us, his hand on Luca’s shoulder. Luca’s smile is so big his eyes are almost closed. I’m smiling too. I remember that day. Dad grumbling about money. Mom asking strangers to take our picture. Luca crying when pigeon stole his sandwich. I laughed so hard I almost cried. That was a good day. That’s what makes it worse. There are good days. Days when I laugh until my stomach hurts. When I sing in the car. When I go shopping with Mom or watch movies with Luca. Sometimes I forget about the heaviness for a little while. But it always comes back.
My eyes land on the chemistry homework. Half finished. My pencil still lying across the paper from last night. That bothers me for some reason. Will my teacher mark it missing tomorrow? Then I remember tomorrow doesn’t matter. I take a last deep breath. I close my eyes, sure they won’t open again. I raise my right hand. The barrel is cold against my skin. It makes me shiver, all the way to my toes. My eyes stay closed. I can’t open them. If I do, I won’t be able to close them again. I squeeze them tighter. The skin hurts. For a second, I only hear my breathing. Then the wind chimes. Then nothing.
I open my eyes. Darkness. I’m awake, I think. Am I dead? I don’t remember pulling the trigger. I look down. I can barely see my body. No walls. No ceiling. No floor. Just darkness everywhere. “Hello?” My voice echoes back. Then another voice answers.
“Why are you so sad?”
I freeze. Another voice behind me.
“Your life is fine.”
Then another.
“Be grateful for the life you have.”
“Just breathe.”
“You can’t be that depressed. I saw you laughing the other day.”
“Depressed people don’t smile.” The voices pile on, overlapping, crowding out my thoughts.
They sound like crows, but there’s nothing above me. I cover my ears. It doesn’t help.
“I saw you laughing.”
I’m back at school. Lunch with my friends. Someone says something stupid and I laugh so hard water almost comes out of my nose. Everyone laughs at me, which makes me laugh harder. For a few minutes, I’m happy. Really happy. Then it shifts. I’m alone in a bathroom stall, staring at the gray tile under my shoes. I don’t remember why I went in there. I just remember not wanting to leave.“See?” the voice says. “You were laughing.”
The bathroom disappears, and I’m surrounded by darkness again. “Your life is fine.” The London picture appears in front of me. My family is smiling. “You have parents who love you.”
The picture disappears. “You have friends.”
Another picture appears. Me at someone’s birthday party, smiling at the camera.
“You have a house.” My bedroom appears for half a second.
“You have everything.” Gone.
“Then why aren’t you happy?”
“I DON’T KNOW!”
My scream rips through the darkness. Silence. My chest rises and falls too fast.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. That’s the worst part. If something terrible had happened, maybe I could explain it. Maybe I could point to a moment and say, There. That’s when it changed. But I can’t.
Nothing happened. Everything happened. Every morning I woke up more tired. Every conversation got harder. Every assignment heavier. Every smile felt like something I had to remember how to do. I felt like an untuned guitar. Like everyone else knew the song except me.
Like a background character in my own life. Day after day, my purpose slipped away.
“I had no other choice,” I tell the voices.
“You did.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“STOP!” I cover my ears and close my eyes. “Please,” I whisper, but the voices continue.
“Be grateful.” “Just breathe.” “Other people have it worse.” “You’re being dramatic.” “Think about your family.” They get louder and louder until I scream again. “STOP!” I scream until my throat burns, and then they do.
I uncover my ears. Open my eyes. My Hello Kitty pillow is in front of me. I kneel down and pick it up. It looks just like the one on my bed. There’s a tiny stain in the corner from when I spilled chocolate milk. I hold it to my chest. It disappears. Now my chemistry homework is there. I pick up the paper. My handwriting covers half the page. Three questions left unfinished. I stare at them. Why did I start homework I never planned to turn in? I drop the paper. It’s gone before it hits the ground.
Then I hear something.
“Lulu?”
When Luca was little and learning to talk, he called me Lulu. From then on, it stuck. I turn around.
“Luca?” I see nothing.
“Lulu?”
His voice sounds far away. I start walking toward it.
“Luca!” The darkness stretches endlessly around me, so I start running.
“Luca!” No answer.
Then a figure appears in front of me. I stop. At first, I can only see the outline, but then she steps closer. My heart stops.
“Grandma?”
“Oh, honey.”
Her voice is exactly the way I remember it. It was warm. She always called me honey when I was little. I was her little honey. For a second, neither of us moves. She looks exactly the way she did when I was a kid. The same hair and smile. Even the sweater she used to wear around the house. I run toward her. She opens her arms, and I fall into them.
I’m six again. Sitting at her kitchen counter while she makes pancakes. Stealing chocolate chips from the bag when she isn’t looking, even though she knows. I’m eight, lying next to her on the couch while she plays with my hair. I’m ten, complaining about school and she listens like it’s the most important thing in the world. I hold her tighter. For the first time in years, I feel okay. The tension in my shoulders lets go, and my breathing slows. Everything crushing me starts to evaporate.
“I missed you,” I whisper.
“I missed you too, honey.”
“I couldn’t do it anymore.”
Her hand rubs my back.
“I was so tired.”
“I know.”
“I tried.”
“I know.”
My voice breaks. “I really tried.”
“I know you did.”
I pull away to look at her. Sadness in her face. Not anger. That hurts more. “Am I dead?”
She doesn’t answer. I look around. “Is this where I stay?”
She brushes my hair away from my face. “No, honey.”My stomach drops. “What?”
“You can’t stay here.”
“No.”
“I can’t stay either.”
“No, no, no.” I grab her hands. “You just got here.”
“Honey—”
“Please.” My voice sounds like a child’s.
“I already lost you once. Please don’t make me lose you again.”
She holds my face in her hands.
“I’ll always be with you.”
“That’s what people say when they’re leaving.”
Her eyes fill with tears. For a second, neither of us speaks. Then I hear it again.
“Lulu?”
Luca.
I turn toward the voice. When I look back at Grandma, she’s beginning to fade.
“No.” I grab for her, but my hands pass through her arms.
“No, please.”
“Honey.”
“Please!”
“Someone needs you.”
Then she’s gone.
My arms close around nothing. The darkness feels colder without her.
“No!” My arms close around nothing. The darkness is colder without her.
“No!” My voice echoes. My heart beats faster. There’s no way out. It’s a black hole.
“I don’t even remember-” Then, the darkness disappears.
I’m conscious again. Sitting crisscrossed on my bedroom floor. For a second, I don’t understand what I’m seeing. My right hand is empty. I look up to see the gun in Luca’s hands. My body freezes. He stares at me. Four years old. Dinosaur T-shirt, the green one with the spaghetti stain. His hands are so small. He doesn’t say anything. Neither do I. Does he knowwhat it is? Does he think it’s a toy? My heart pounds so loud I can hear it. Seconds ago, I wanted everything to stop. Now there’s only one thought. Please don’t let anything happen to him.
“Luca,” I whisper. He looks at me. “Give that to me.”
He looks down at what he’s holding. “No.”
Of course. Four-year-olds love saying no. Normally I’d roll my eyes. Tell Mom. Chase him around the house until he gave it back. But I don’t move. If I move too quickly, something bad could happen.
“Luca,” I say again, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Please.” He smiles at me. He has no idea. That scares me more than anything.
“Lulu?”
“Yeah?”
“Why are you crying?”
I hadn’t realized I was. A tear falls onto my hand. “I’m okay.” The lie comes out. I’m okay. I’m tired. Nothing’s wrong. I’m just stressed. The answers I’ve given for months. But this time, I can’t even convince myself.
“Luca,” Mom calls from the hallway. “Where are you?”
My heart stops. “Mom.” My voice barely comes out. “Mom!”
Her footsteps get closer. She turns the corner into my room. Sees me on the floor. Sees Luca. Sees what he’s holding. Her face changes. She doesn’t scream. She moves toward him, saying his name softly, and takes the gun away. The second it’s out of his hands, she falls apart.
She pulls Luca to her, then grabs me too. Her arms wrap around us so tight I can barely breathe. For once, I don’t mind.
My head rests against her shoulder. Her whole body is shaking.
“Are you okay?” she keeps asking Luca. “Are you okay?” He nods.
“I found Lulu.” Mom looks at me, but I can’t look back. She checks Luca again and then turns toward me. Her hands grab my face.
“Are you hurt?” I shake my head.
“Did anything happen?” Another shake.
Her eyes move toward the floor, then back to me. I watch the realization spread across her face. She knows. I can see the exact second she understands. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out. I expect her to yell. To ask what’s wrong with me. To tell me how stupid I am. Instead, she pulls me into her arms. That makes me cry harder.
The hug feels familiar. Like déjà vu. Grandma. I squeeze my eyes shut. For a second, Mom’s shoulder is Grandma’s sweater. I hear her voice. Someone needs you. Then it’s just silence. Just the wind chimes outside my window. This time, the wind sings a different song. My body goes numb. I don’t feel anything except Mom’s shoulder and Luca pressed against me. I feel upset. I don’t know if it’s because everything was ruined or because everything was fixed. Maybe both.
“Honey?” Dad’s voice comes from the hallway. Mom doesn’t answer. He turns the corner into my room and stops. His eyes move between the three of us sitting on the floor.
“What happened?” Nobody answers. His confused expression turns into concern. Then his eyes find the gun. He stares at it, then at Mom, then at me. It takes him a second to comprehend.
His face changes. “Oh.” It’s the only thing he says.
Mom looks at him. “Take Luca.”
“No!” Luca says immediately. He wraps both arms around me.
“I stay with Lulu.”
Something inside me breaks. I bury my face in his hair and start crying again. Dad kneels beside us. For once, nobody knows what to say. No lectures. No questions. No why. Not yet. Just the four of us on my dirty bedroom floor. The family from the London picture. Except nobody is smiling. I look at the picture. For the first time, I notice Luca’s hand wrapped around mine. I had forgotten that.
I don’t know what happens after this. I don’t know when we’ll talk about it. Or if I’ll know what to say. I don’t know if they’ll understand me or be angry. If they’ll watch me every second now. I don’t know what school will be like. I don’t know what tomorrow will look like.
Tomorrow.
My eyes go to my desk. The chemistry homework is still there, half finished. Three questions left. I stare at it. Maybe my teacher will mark it missing tomorrow. Maybe I’ll finish it. Maybe I won’t. I don’t know. I don’t know when I’ll feel like myself again. Or if I ever will. I don’t suddenly feel grateful to be alive. I don’t suddenly understand why I’m here. The heaviness is still there. There isn’t a magical moment where everything makes sense.
But Luca is still holding onto me. Mom’s hand rubs my back. Dad sits beside us. Outside my window, the wind chimes keep singing, this time a happier song. I close my eyes and listen.
