No one could have stopped her. She wanted to leave; she already had her note written and her bed made. The pills were on the foot of her bed begging her to take them.
And she did.
My mom had an instinct that something was wrong, but she never knew it was this bad.
She ran up the stairs and, did she trip?
There was a thump and a whisper of “oh s***”
She flung open the bedroom door and ran in.
Did she knock?
Mom saw her lying there empty pill bottle in her hand, or did it fall on the ground?
Now she is yelling something into the phone as he daughters eyes are rolling into the back of her head.
Help. Daughter. Suicide. Ambulance. Pills. Sleeping. Now. Dial tone.
Now she was moving her daughter but to where?
The shower? No toilet.
Gagging. Liquid hitting liquid. Vomit.
“Wake up”
“Don’t you dare leave me here alone.”
“Please”
Paramedics are here?
Mother is hysterical
“Ma’am please wait outside”
“No”
“Get her out of here”
She is numb.
Her ears were ringing.
She picks up my note and reads what I wrote in my best cursive.
I’m sorry.
Since then the house was silent. So silent, that when I kept trying again and again she was always there to stop me.
And as I stand here at the pearly gates I thank her for it.