Like the Wind
33333Amanda toyed with the knife sometimes, up in her room where no one else could see her. She ran the cool, flat surface of the blade across her wrists and up and down the lengths of her arms. She wondered how it would feel to slice right through the flesh, splitting veins and tendons down to the bone. How long would she feel pain before she felt nothing?
33333On days like these, Amanda would have given the world to feel anything but the pain. Her life had no meaning. She didn't know why she bothered to do anything. It felt like she had been stuck in the eighth grade for an eternity, and even when that was over there would be all of high school to go through. She hated every moment. Of the few friends she had, nobody understood her. And even when the school day was over, she had her family to deal with. Sometimes that seemed worse.
33333Amanda used to dream of running away, but she knew that it was not a realistic option. She just wanted to be on her own, making her own decisions. Her parents treated her like she was a little child, yet they expected her to be responsible. It was suffocating. Even when she was alone, Amanda could feel the weight of her position pressing on her.
33333Suicide was something that Amanda had contemplated before. In the end, fear had always won out. She had never been able to go through with it. Still, Amanda kept the knife. She hid it in the back of her closet in a small cedar chest that had belonged to her grandmother. It was a twisted sort of comfort to her, knowing that it was in her power to end it all.
33333Amanda bowed her head, resting the knife between her breasts and over her heart. She heard the wind outside her window, and for a moment she let it carry her. Amanda closed her eyes and sighed. I want to be like the wind, she thought. I want my spirit to blow through the trees and everywhere else in the world. When I breathe, I want to feel free.
33333She thought of the people she would be leaving behind. Their voices were a distant murmur drifting through her mind. She wondered if anyone would miss her. Her parents, she thought bitterly, would only think of her when they needed something done around the house.
33333Her supposed friends would probably forget her within a week. They never really knew her. When she thought of her friends, she saw them fighting for a spot in front of a mirror, frantically checking their mascara or lip liner. She pulled clips of past conversations from her subconscious. It all sounded the same.
33333The wind was getting stronger. Amanda could see the sky through her shades. It was gray and eerie looking. Drops of rain softly splattered the window. The beginning of a storm.
33333Suddenly she was desperate for a reason to hold on. Wasn't there anything, anything at all worth living for? She was terrified of going through with it. But she could think of no reason not to.
33333Amanda held out her left wrist. She could feel the blood in flowing through her veins and into her fingers. Carefully, she held the blade above her wrist and lowered it until it was touching her skin.
33333The phone rang.
33333Amanda jumped. She had made a small cut, and it was beginning to bleed. She stared at the blue and pink phone that had been her birthday present the year before. On the second ring, she picked it up.
33333"Hello?"
33333"Yeah, uh, is this Amanda?" a male voice asked.
33333"Yes. . . Who's this?"
33333"It's Bret."
33333"Oh. . ." Bret Hanely lived two doors down from her. They had known each other since they were little, although they had never really been friends.
33333"Did you bring your math book home?"
33333Amanda echoed his words under her breath. "Math book?" she repeated dumbly.
33333"Yeah, uh, we had homework on page 271."
33333Slowly, his words connected in her mind. She looked over at her bookbag and remembered putting it in hours earlier.
33333"Yes. Yes, I did. It's here," said Amanda, her voice breaking slightly.
33333"Could I borrow it? I have a wrestling match at six, and I could pick it up on the way back. That would give you enough time to do it."
33333"I. . . sure. Yeah, that's fine."
33333"Oh, thanks. I guess I'll see you then."
33333"Yeah. See you then." She hung up.
33333The knife was on the floor. She didn't remember throwing it. Mechanically, she retrieved it and put it back in the box. A single drop of blood was slowly sliding down her arm. Amanda pulled a tissue from her dresser and wiped it off. She felt her throat close, and her eyes burned. Gasping for breath, she lay down on the bed and sobbed.
THE END