Unconscious Problems

• Kristin Widhibrata, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2013

I first heard it from my friend. Subconsciously, but I still heard it. ‘Did you hear about the girl? Killed herself last weekend?’ She asked. She continued nonetheless. ‘She was from our school, apparently.’ That didn’t pique my interest whatsoever. I was used to Kalen’s ramblings. ‘Georigia Stubbs?’ the teacher said, clearly bored. The people in this classroom were so pliable. The succumbed to anything and everything. ‘Here,’ I muttered trying to muster the art of nonchalantly answering yet focusing on everything else. That stupid girl was away today. I held back a snicker.

The second time I heard it was from my other friend, the serious one. You now, the one that’s always cautious, doesn’t like surprises? That one. Lena is her name, or she wishes it was. It’s actually just Lucy. She’s stupid too. When I saw her today, she had red-rimmed eyes and was edgy and jumpy. She knew that I knew, so she tried to hide it by faking laughs, and smiles, and general ‘happiness’. No-one fools me. I confronted her. ‘Why were you crying?’ I demanded, not beating around the metaphorical bush. ‘I- one… One of my friends committed suicide the other night.’ I bristled immediately at this. ‘What FRIEND? You don’t have FRIENDS… You just have me. Do you understand? DO YOU?’ I pushed her up against the brick wall on the exterior of the cafeteria. ‘Y-yes, she stuttered quickly. ‘Good,’ I said smugly. ‘Come on…’ I stopped abruptly, realising she’d gone. ‘Bastard,’ I muttered.

The third time, I got worried. Crystal Had not been present at school for almost a full week now. I had also noticed a halting change in the teacher’s behaviours towards me. They seemed colder, less lenient. The looked at me differently. Then, my form teacher told us. ‘Crystal has committed suicide. Her funeral is next Tuesday for anyone that would like to attend and pay their respects.' Nope. No-one would.

Then, I heard her note, a recording.

‘All I can do now is reminiscence about the past, pills in hand. What I used to be. I was powerful, I was strong. I was popular. No one hated me. I just can’t remember what went wrong. One day, it just started to click... I looked into the mirror, and just realised, that ‘Hey, I’m not really needed.’ What I thought was just sadness quickly turned to depression. I no longer found myself with the ability to be happy again. Truly, I was never happy, I was just less sad at times. Mum, Dad, Family; don’t blame yourselves. this is just me and my thoughts. My overbearing thoughts. Thank you for the very small amount of friendship I ever had, and those who still give it. Thanks for helping me. I may not have reached this point without you. I regret nothing in life, I will die happy. So, for the last time, GOODBYE.’

The hang-up click sounded.