*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1421670-The-Slowest-Form-of-Suicide
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Death · #1421670
a girl tells of her last heartache as she slips into nothingness...
No one ever told me life was fair...and even if they had, I seriously would have punched them in the mouth. Life isn't fair. I mean honestly, with the profuse amount of blonde bimbos we've got walking around with these big beautiful blue/green/etc. eyes, full lips, and endearing smiles...and I had to end up looking like this. Life most definitely isn't fair. I was given a bad hand, nothing but whammies. Well, that's what I call it. So let's just put my most obvious imperfections out on the table before I continue, shall we. Index finger out. I'm very fat, quite obese. Birdie finger accompanies index. I have these weird discolorations all over my body that make it look like I don't bathe. (For the record...I do). Ring finger joins the other two. No matter how much I bathe, I have BO. Are you quite satisfied, or do you want more? Because I could make a career out of naming my imperfections...you'd do better at asking for anything GOOD about me. And is there anything good about me? Maybe. Nobody else bothers to see it, so why should I bother in telling you about it? In fact, you've probably stopped reading this by now so why should I even continue with the story? Maybe because I'm a pathetic loser and I hope that someone cares enough to read it...

My sister is drop dead gorgeous and all my friends are good looking in various degrees, but compared to me, they're all beautiful. Imagine that! I found another whammy. Quadruple whammy. Do you know what this means? Not the whammy, but the fact that all my friends are beautiful. It means that any guy I have a crush on won't look at me twice around any of them. I stand alone and invisible, forced to watch the object of my affection flirt with one of my best friends. I've grown numb to it by now. I count myself fortunate if said object of affection even remembers that I'm there. But he usually doesn't. Any man I've met thinks only with the dim-witted brain down south...

The dim-witted brain down south and I don't really get along. Apparently I'm not appealing to it...

Strike another on the whammy board...

Me...none...whammies...five...

So what am I getting at? What is the gist of the story I'm trying to tell? I really don't know. I'm just telling it as it goes and all the while, I'm glancing longingly at a bottle of prescription pills. It's half empty now. It was full right before I started this...

Interesting indeed...

His name was David and he was shorter than me, older than me by almost two weeks, and I thought I was in love with him. Simple enough. We could end the story right here because I'm sure you already know how it turned out for me. But I'll continue because I've got time. All the time in the world to tell you about the last heartache...and the straw that broke the horse's back (or is it donkey?).

He was the new kid in school. He had curly dark brown hair, pale skin, deep brown eyes, and these full lips. Characteristics that made him kind of cute. It was when he smiled that ‘kind of cute' became ‘really cute'. And then as infatuation set in...‘beautiful'.

He was in my Spanish class and Mrs. Ortega seated him right next to me. She introduced him to the class in Spanish and revealed something about him that absolutely shocked me. He was Mexican. I had had this preconceived notion that all Mexicans were tan beyond belief, had inky, straight black hair and caterpillar thick mustaches. The guy next to me was pale, and had hair that was obviously not black, and obviously not straight. And of course, there was no caterpillar thick mustache. Not even a sombrero. Not that I was disappointed. As the teacher turned her attention away from him and began to teach us about subjunctives, David turned to me and asked me if I had a pencil. I only had one and I was using it, but I gave it to him anyway with a grin on my face.

"Here." I said. He took it, looked me right in the eyes, and smiled. My heart palpitated, I think...or maybe I just imagined it. But something happened in that moment that started a deeper feeling than any I had ever known and sealed my fate all at once.

"Gracias." He grinned.

"De nada," I replied, pronouncing it ‘duh naduh'. He chortled a little and said no more. He needn't have said anything else. My mind was still preoccupied with his smile. And, oh, how painfully beautiful it had been. And I felt it there, the knowledge that if he ever hurt me I would die. My heart was already his and all he'd done was smile at me.

Remembering that smile now is bittersweet. For it is still painful...but in no sense of the word is it beautiful.

"Have you seen the new guy?" I queried my friends at lunch. We sat in our usual spot, outside on the patio, at the largest table. I picked at a salad (another ill-fated attempt at a diet) and searched the faces of those beautiful people I called my friends. They all shook their heads, no.

"Is he cute?" my best friend, Alicia asked me as she bit into a burger. I eyed it longingly, but only for a second.

"Maybe." I grinned. Alicia raised an eyebrow at me. She, out of all my friends, knew me the best. And at that moment, I'm sure she knew I was in ‘full on crush mode' as we liked to say.

"If he's cute, introduce me to him!" my other good friend Liana piped. Thunderheads must've been brewing in the expression I gave her because her eyes widened and she added quickly,

"I was kidding! He's totally all yours, Diana!" She too had a burger, and she bit into it hastily, trying to escape from my apparently thunderous gaze. I lowered it and stared down at my unappetizing salad, suddenly not hungry.

"I mean, he's fair game I guess." I murmured. But in my mind, that wasn't so. When he'd smiled at me, I had marked him as mine. And already I was territorial. Liana and Alicia exchanged wary glances and continued to eat their burgers. I picked at my salad, my mind on David, wondering where he was at that moment.

"Mind if I sit with you?" I jumped, surprised. Apparently, David was right behind me. I turned slowly and met his steady gaze, basking in those deep chocolate eyes of his. Although entranced by his stare, I managed to nod my head. He shocked me again by sitting down next to me. I'd expected him to sit next to Liana because there had been plenty of room next to her, and she was eons prettier. He looked at me and grinned as he sat down. I noticed that he, too, had a salad.

"I didn't catch your name in Spanish class." He began, eyes focused on me and steady, not even averting when I dared to meet and hold his gaze.

"Diana," I answered, "mucho gusto." I'd made sure to add an authentic accent to the Spanish this time. David only laughed and said,

"I speak English, you know."

"Oh." I felt like such an idiot and had I not been black (did I forget to mention that?), he surely would have seen my cheeks flushed a violent red.

"So do you come from Mexico?" my friend Alicia spoke up and my hopes dropped. Surely he would forget I existed now, surely he would only speak to my gorgeous friends and ignore the fat, discolored one. He leaned forward to look at Alicia (We sat three in a row and I hadn't tried to move so he could see her better. I'm not sure whether or not I did that on purpose. I'm sure I had, though.) and answered,

"Just because I'm Mexican doesn't mean I come from Mexico. So the answer's no. I'm from Cali. My parents are from Cali. My grandparents live in Mexico, though."

"So do you speak Mexican?" I couldn't decide whether to laugh or be shocked at Alicia's naivety. David laughed so I assumed it was okay do the former. I let out a nervous chuckle.

"No," his eyes danced with amusement, "but I do speak Spanish."

"Oh see well that's what I meant..."

"Surrrre you did." David and I said at the same time. We turned to face each other and laughed. My heart swelled at that moment, but I didn't dare give myself hope. I knew how things went in the game of love. And if the ugly duckling has gorgeous friends, the ugly duckling should only expect to be ignored. But ignored I was not.

"So," his eyes were once again upon me and I couldn't not meet his gaze, "do you speak Spanish, Diana, I mean beyond ‘mucho gusto' and ‘de nada'." He'd pronounced de nada the way I had in class. Duh naduh. I giggled a little and nodded.

"Yeah I do."

"¿De verdad?" he grinned.

"¡Sí!" I replied.

"¡Bueno! ¡Me alegre que tú hablas español también y espero que podemos ser amigos!" he rattled it off so fast I barely understood him...but what matters is, I DID understand him and Alicia and Liana didn't. I'd seen the twin expressions of confusion on their faces.

"Yo también." He smiled at me. I smiled at him. And all rationality was lost to me then. Because at that moment I began to think that maybe, just maybe, this one might be different. Maybe the ugly duckling will finally have her handsome prince. And this one would never hurt me so my mortality was safe. This. Was. The. One. Oh...but I was so, so wrong.

And somehow the bottle of prescription pills has found its way into my hands. I twist its top open and peer in at the lovely nacreous pills within. So lovely and white. And so perfect. Perfect.

The next four months afterward were pure bliss and perfection. And with each conversation we had, I lost the hopelessness I'd had before and had begun to actually do the unthinkable...

Not just hope but begin to assume...assume that he liked me. Because David wasn't like all the other guys. Other guys would tolerate my presence but not openly seek it out. David did. And I took this in the wrong context which ultimately led to my downfall...

No, that's wrong. It was the first smile that lead to my downfall...

Four months into our friendship (and into my growing infatuation), he'd invited me to go to the movies with him and some friends. I'd already seen the movie, but went to see it again only because he'd invited me. Had I not done so, I might not be writing this at all, let alone holding an empty pill bottle in my hands.

When I'd arrived at the theatre and greeted him, his eyes lit up as they always did and he grinned, almost beamed at me.

"I'm glad you could make it." I smiled sheepishly and answered,

"Me too!" We talked for a little while, standing shoulder to shoulder. Closer than I'd ever been with any guy. And David was close to me by his own doing. My heart smiled at that. And I want to take a moment to reflect on that last moment of pure happiness. The feeling that the one you loved might love you back. It was the most wondrous feeling I've ever felt...well...that and this numb euphoria that's begun to course through me. My time to tell this tale is growing shorter...I only wanted to reflect on that moment of joy for a little bit longer. It was the last joy I'd ever felt before everything went to hell for me.

Hell came in a dark blue Nissan with a broken fender. I hadn't noticed its approach until David averted his eyes and a look came across his face. I followed his gaze and watched as the dark blue Nissan parked not far from us and a nubile princess climbed out. I turned away from the girl and her car, and looked again at David. My David. And that look was deepening, and there was something in his eyes. Something that had never been there for me and it was only until then that I'd realized it.

"Allison!" he greeted emphatically and left me to go to her. A situation I'd been in thousands of times before...but this time hurt the most. Hurt the damnedest most.

"Hey Dave!" they embraced and, oh God was I really seeing this, kissed right in front of me. It was a furtive kiss, but enough for me to know that I had never held David's affection as I'd once been foolish enough to think. He spoke something in Spanish to her and she replied in the same language. They looked into each others eyes for a little while longer, then David broke the gaze and looked at me, a silly grin playing across his lips. Perhaps he had seen something in my expression, I certainly hadn't thought to hide my emotions, because the grin dwindled then died completely.

"Diana? ¿Que te pasó?" The girl, Allison, looked at me with worry in her eyes. She didn't even know me and she was worried about me. How priceless was that? I couldn't even think of a response in Spanish, my mind was muddled with hurt and confusion. Instead, I placed a discolored hand over my bulging belly and made up some lie about how I didn't feel well. I looked behind them and saw other people coming. David's other friends. I had known they would come, but not this Allison girl. David gave me a queer look, his expression was unreadable, but I knew right then that I'd just given myself away. Had I feigned that nothing was wrong, he wouldn't have known anything. However, shock made me think stupidly and I stumbled madly past them, trying to hide the tears that were welling in my eyes, but knowing that David had seen them. Had seen them and went to see the movie anyway.

And I had gone home. And I had cried and cried. I'd been heartbroken before, but this was ‘algo màs' as David would say. It wasn't just an emotional pain, but a physical pain and I knew that it was a pain that would never go away. I knew that there would only be one person like David and I had lost him. Had lost him to one of those beautiful people. Story of my life. I hadn't seen the prescription pill bottle then, instead I'd gone to my room and fell into a tear induced sleep, hoping to escape the pain of this latest heartache in my dreams.

An annoying tintinnabulation woke me from my dreamless sleep. Someone was calling me. I fumbled around, looking for my phone. My eyelids were half glued shut from dried tears and I didn't have to look in a mirror to know they were swollen as well. Finally I felt my phone and flipped it open muttering a groggy,

"Hello?"

"Diana?" I sucked in my breath. It was David. I had dreamed so many times of him calling me but, of course, under different circumstances.

"Yes?"

"It's David." No shit Sherlock. I remained silent.

"Are you feeling better? You didn't look well."

"I'm okay." I looked down at the tear stains on my pillow and ran a finger over them. Damp, but drying. David was quiet for a moment and I searched for something to say. Just as I was about to say something, anything, he broke the silence with.

"I don't think you were sick." My eyes widened a little at this but I wasn't entirely surprised. He'd seen the tears. He'd known.

"No."

"You weren't or are you saying I'm wrong."

"Both."

"What?"

"Both!" I nearly shouted, my voice cracked a little revealing my emotional state. David sighed deeply on the other end.

"Dee, is there something you want to tell me?" Dee, he'd been the only one to give me a nickname. I'd adored it whenever he'd used it before, but at that moment, I hated it, hated him for it. Dee was my weakness. I said nothing.

"Dee, I think there's something you're not telling me." No kidding. I still said nothing.

"Don't be childish, Dee, just say it. You'll feel better if you say it."

"I can't." small and childish. Puerile. He let out an exasperated sigh, but this time he was the one to say nothing.

"David, you don't understand."

"What am I not understanding? Enlighten me, Diana." He sounded frustrated. I didn't blame him.

"You're not understanding how hard it is for ME." Vehemence coated every word. He paused for a second, as if thinking that over, then he said,

"Diana, I already know. I just want you to tell me."

"If you already know, why do I NEED to tell you?"

"Don't be childish, Diana. We're both adults here." We'd both just turned 18, but that in no way made us adults. In fact, I felt like a child at that moment, a child being scolded by an adult. A part of me wanted to be stubborn and refuse, but something in his voice, frustration or annoyance, made me relinquish my obstinacy and admit what I thought I'd never admit to him. In a small voice I spoke the words that I had felt, but never dared to say.

"I love you, David." And for a second I'd thought, hoped, that he'd say that he loved me, too. That he hadn't realized it until he saw me running back to my car with tears in my eyes. Instead, he let out a disgusted sigh. My heart shriveled in my chest at the sound.

"Diana." There was a sort of pleading in his voice, like he was saying, "I don't want to do this but you're making me do this."

"What David?"

"Diana I...I don't..."

"You don't what?"

"I mean I like you a lot, but only as a friend. I thought you knew that. I thought you knew Allison and I were together. I mean, you saw us." I thought back. Had I seen them? Maybe I had seen him and ignored the girl beside him. A fatal error.

"How long have you two been together?" he let out another one of those exasperated sighs and I realized with growing horror that I was beginning to hate him.

"What does it matter, Diana? It's not like I cheated on you or anything." I winced.

"But you never told me anything."

"I never thought I had to."

"So...so everything before was...was just..."

"Diana I don't feel anything like that for you and I'm sorry if I might've lead you on to thinking like that. You're not really my type." A slap in the face as well as salt in the wounds. I chocked back a sob, but knew he'd heard it.

"Buh-buh-but...you always sat with me at lunch...and...and..." I was blubbering, making no sense and his speech had gone from caring (as it had been in the beginning) to hard and clipped.

"She doesn't have the same lunch as me, none of my other friends do. Dee, you're making this difficult."

"Well I'll make it easier for you, then." And I hung up the phone. I knew even as I did it, that he wouldn't call back. That, instead, he'd be relieved to be done with it. And the damned pain was getting worse. My chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. The pain grew and grew and grew becoming unbearable. And it was then that I remembered the new bottle of painkillers in the bathroom. For my mother, but she wasn't home. She and dad have gone out for the night. They'll be back in an hour or so...but I should be gone by then...

I could have maybe called Alicia or Liana and talked to them about it, but I'd already known what they'd say. They'd try to encourage me not to give up, that there was some guy out there for me, I just had to keep looking. But that's like asking me to drive a knife through my leg ever so slowly. Love is the slowest form of suicide and I needed a faster one. Pretty Pristine Pills would do the job. Lots and lots of pretty pristine pills.

A film of gray begins to cover my vision and I sink to the floor, back against the bathtub. I feel its coldness bite into my skin, but only faintly. I'm drifting away...drifting to a place where there isn't pain...and no double, triple, or quadruple whammies...

And maybe there I'll be beautiful...
© Copyright 2008 Poetriz (poeticdreamz13 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1421670-The-Slowest-Form-of-Suicide