Dear Self,

What have you been doing? I know that you've had a lot going on lately, but why are you acting this way? You’re cutting off your friends and you’re constantly trying to get your parents off your back. What’s wrong?
Recently, I've noticed that you’re kind of on edge. Nothing in particular is happening, right? I mean, when Abbie asked you what was wrong today, you just said, “Nothing’s wrong. Why would you think that?” But you know why, right? It’s because of everything that’s piled up lately, right? You’re failing your classes, which doesn't help your case. Are you upset because of all of the fighting? Is your brother not talking to you anymore? Is everyone in your family ignoring you now because they’re too busy fighting? Are they too caught up in their own selfish lives to even give a rip about how you’re feeling?
Ah, I knew it was that.
You see, you can’t just keep it all inside. Whenever you hear the yelling and the screaming coming your father and brother, while you spot your mother rocking back and forth in a corner, crying, you just try to block it out and pretend it never happened. But you can’t do that. Every time you feel that ache in your stomach, you try to make it go away by just concentrating on something else. We all know that you can’t do that. Eventually, it got to the point where all you could think about was that yelling and fighting that your brother and dad won’t let up at. It’s getting to the point where it has engraved itself into your mind, echoing through every moment of your day. Remember that if you just say something it will get a lot better. I know how much you just want to start talking to someone and never stop, but you don’t. Why don’t you? Why do you feel like you can’t trust anyone?
Wait. You think that you can trust someone but your afraid of what they’ll think of you once you say something? Is this why you’re not talking?
Earlier today you put up a scene. Yes, everybody saw it. If you had talked to someone, it might not have happened.
“Keira,” Abbie said to you today at lunch. She’s your best friend, and you know that you shouldn't keep things from her. But why do you? “You haven’t eaten anything for a week, you never text me, you never talk anymore, and you’re always tired. What’s going on with you?”
You stay silent for a moment, not being able to bare telling the truth. People would think differently of your brother and father, whom were well respected people of the community, if you told anyone about what’s been going on. Telling someone would help make you feel better, but you hate thinking about yourself. You do NOT want to think selfishly. Sometimes you take this personal rule to higher levels. Whenever someone says that you did a great job on something, or they give you compliments, you like to deflect what they’re saying, like you are unworthy of anything good. That, I have to say to you now, is completely false. You are worth so much to this world.
Finally, after what seemed like hours of silence, you returned Abbie’s question with the typical answer, “Nothing. I’m just the same normal Keira. Why are asking?” But you know exactly why she asked.
Abbie rolled her eyes at you with an exaggerated sigh that could be heard from miles away. “Why do you do this to yourself? All you do is mope and you won’t let anyone help you!”
This outburst of anger infuriates you. Even though you know she’s right, you still are stubborn and will not budge, especially with reactions like that. “Just shut up already,” you tell her with just a hint of fire from within yourself. “I’m fine and I've always been fine. And quite frankly, even if I wasn't fine, I wouldn't come to you.” You know this is harsh and something that you would never say under “normal” circumstances, but you know what, this wasn't a “normal” situation.
Abbie looks at you, obviously hurt, and without another word, gets up from the table and runs off. You feel bad, but you don’t run after her. Instead you go to the office and claim that you’re sick. We all know that you weren't really sick. You should have just stayed at school.
The secretary lets you go home. Slowly, you make your way to the student parking lot, get into your car, and drive away. As you drive, you look out of the window at all of the familiar sites that you've seen every day for the past sixteen years. This, you think, will be the last time you’ll see all of this. A large corn field, where you used to play tag with your brother, passes by. Next, a large red barn passes by. When you were five, the farmer let you play in there, but you both didn't know there were rotten boards on the upper level. You ended up falling through the boards and breaking your leg.
All of these memories flash before your eyes and you smile. The much simpler times were blissful with such radiance in your young soul. Even though you felt scared at times, everything seemed to be okay in the end. But those times were over and missing them didn't bring them back.
Soon enough you arrived at your home. You live in a secluded area, with corn fields surrounding three of the four sides of your lonely farm home. There’s not another house for a half of a mile. You walk into your house to find that no one was home. This relieves you. After all, you did come home to end it all. You wanted all of the pain to disappear. To you, this was the only way.
Quickly, you write a sloppy note to your mother, apologizing for leaving her to fend for herself, but you also remind her that if she had noticed you, then you might not have done this. You tell your brother and father to stop fighting and that you hope that this might help keep the two of them civil. Then, you write a little bit to Abbie and the rest of your friends. You tell them that you’re so sorry, but you had to do this. I had to do this. I just couldn't find any other way out, you write.
You slide the note under a magnet and plaster it onto the fridge. Then a knife gets taken out of the door. Slowly, carefully, as if you didn't actually want to die, you hold up the sharpened stick of metal up to your wrists.
NO! You think to yourself. Stop it! Put the knife down! Do you really want to die today? Is this part of your life so crappy that you want to throw everything away? Thinking about this, you know that you don’t want to die, but you also want all of the pain to just go away.
“I’m not putting it down,” you whisper gently. “I can’t just pretend that I've not been miserable for the past six months.”
But, thoughts just keep on coming to. Warm summer days you would spend running around a grassland, come back to you. The smell of flowers blooming in the spring inch their way under your nose. Every single thing that you love about the world hits you like an asteroid. The knife you were holding in your hand slips out of it and clatters to the ground. You fall too.
Wooden floors welcome you as you lay motionless. Warm, soft tears stream down your cheeks as stare up at the ceiling. No strength remained in your body, which might have saved your life. The knife was close by, but you refused to move your hand. Everything was too much. You needed help and you wanted to hope that someone would just walk into your house and find you, before you did anything.
And someone did come.
“Keira,” Abbie called as she slammed your front door. “Are you—” She stopped in her tracks when she saw you.
At first, you say nothing. Then, the soft tears turn to violence. You start to howl and Abbie runs to your side. “Abbie, help me,” You sob. “I need your help. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Abbie knocks the knife away from where you could reach it, and she helps sit you up for a warm embrace. “Keira, what happened? You have to tell me what’s going on.”

You tell her everything, crying through every second of it. She nods her head, listening intently, and just genuinely caring. Eventually, she ends up telling you that when she heard that you were going home sick, she became worries and rushed over here.

For hours it seemed like the two of you sat there as you let everything out while she listened. One could say that even though things seemed bleak and that there was no one that actually cared, you’re probably very wrong. For one thing, someone was constantly caring, but you just weren't able to see it. People care, let them help you. Thought it might seem like it, there are people out there that love you and want to help you.

Let them help you.

Sincerely,
Yourself