Sara...

• Cloey Guerin, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2016

I ran down the corridor of her house, my hands shaking, my head filling with worst-case scenarios. I ran up three flights of stairs and kicked open her bedroom door. "SARA WHY?!" I scream at the body hanging there lifelessly. Her face is pale and her arms are covered in fresh blood. I realized she was dead for sure, but my mind couldn't process why she would take her own life. I carefully untied the noose and laid her cold, lifeless body onto her soft warm bed. "Why?!" I screamed at her. I realize screaming wouldn't do anything but, I wanted some sort of answer. I run my hands through her hair that is as black as the moonless midnight sky. Her hair is soft, and it smelt of apples and heaven. My brain noted hearing Sara cough. "SARA?!" I screamed. I held her hand and noticed her new scars. She was always quite vicious towards herself, but never this vicious. I hold onto her hand a bit tighter. "Please?" I whispered to her lifeless body. I just wanted her to be alive. That's all I wanted. I started to cry. I looked over at the noose and started contemplating hanging myself. "Don't," I hear her whisper. I started to believe that she was possibly alive after all. I knew her voice was just in my head and that I was acting crazy to keep myself sane. She held my hand. Maybe I'm not so crazy after all. I let go and moved away from her and into a ball. I walked over to where she had hung herself, picked up the chair, and put my head through the noose. "If I tighten this and kick the chair, I'll die." I said to myself with a little laugh. My foot slipped, and the chair fell over, and as it did. Sara opened her eyes.