CHAPTER XXX: Samantha

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(Warning: Contains self-harm)

That night and the following days that came, I cried nonstop. I cried uncontrollably. Like crying could get me preoccupied. Like crying could save me from being sad.

I didn't know what to do. I knew I was wrong about Cara. I thought she loved me back. But it didn't make sense thinking about it anymore. It was like a pointless thing to do. I have no one to put the blame but to me. I trusted her. But she wasn't actually worth it.

I should have trusted my instincts before I met Cara. It was a brief romantic getaway. A fling. Nothing more than a fling. A short romance.

And it hurt me bad. Like I didn't know if I could trust anyone anymore. I didn't know if I wanted to love someone in the future after this. I don't want to feel this hurt. I love someone very fairly, I don't deserve to be hurt like this.

I got invited on a Wednesday night to a party at Taylor's place. Everyone from my group of friends was invited. Surprisingly, I was included too.

I went to the party in search for Cara to make her change her mind. Ask her everything I wanted to ask.

Then I found out that Cara already flew to London for Christmas. And it hurt me pretty bad, like a whole chunk was taken out from me.

I was walking aimlessly around the place, drinking stuff I got offered. I didn't care anymore.

Yes, I'm mad at Cara. But I still love her. And that's what's making me depressed.

Cara's probably laughing at me now. Probably thinking I'd go on stalker mode after the breakup. I drank another shot.

Nothing really goes as planned. And I have to accept that now. Cara's probably giving me space to move on and she has also put enough distance to stay away from me.

I shrugged myself. I shouldn't be thinking about Cara. Then Elise's face flashed before me. And it brought me into tears again.

Maybe this is what I get for loving someone too much.

Since I didn't book a ticket back home, I spent Christmas evening alone. And I have never felt more depressed.

Then a notification went into my screen. Cara posted a happy photo of her and her family on Instagram. And she still looked beautiful and happy.

I did the only thing I could do at the moment. I deactivated from my account. I had to at some point. For a while. I need time. I need to move on.

I literally stayed on my bed until the next day. I just stared at the ceiling in silence. I remembered Rooney trying to kill herself. Then Elise's death and hopeless dream. Then Cara. It was making me crazy.

Then the pain erupted. Inside of my head. It was overwhelming. I could see only darkness and nothing else. I couldn't remember any love anymore. All I thought about was how I wanted to die and never exist in the world.

I stood up and headed toward the kitchen. I could see the edge of the knife shining right back at me. It seemed like it was calling me. I swallowed a lump in my throat.

No. I shouldn't be doing this. I should stop. But it's hurting. Whatever it is. I can't stop it anymore. It's unbearable. Maybe this is what Rooney felt when she attempted suicide.

I held the knife with my hand very differently. I knew it was only going to end up a mistake or a good decision.

The cold steel kissed my wrist but I couldn't get myself to do it. I threw the knife into the sink and broke down in tears. I ran to my bathroom and splashed water into my face.

I need to wake up. I need to calm down. Think of a happy place. Think of a happy memory. Cara. I broke into tears again.

Then I looked up and I could see myself in the mirror and I didn't like what I saw. So I punched the mirror before me and it shattered into pieces, making my right hand bleed.

But I couldn't feel the pain. I was numb and I had no idea why.

I went to search for bandages in the small medicine cabinet before me. Paracetamol. Cold syrup. Alcohol. Bandages. When I took it out, the container shone before me, as if calling me. Sleeping pills.

I stopped as I took the container into my bleeding hands. Is it worth it? Internet said it's ineffective. Rooney did it too. But was it worth the try?

I went back to my bedroom with the container in hand and a glass of water.

I wanted to no longer exist but I couldn't do it. I kept on asking myself if it was worth it. It was a selfish act. But I've been suffering too much now, I guess I deserved to be a bit selfish for a while. I deserved this.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the bottle of pills before me. Then my hand went to get my phone, as if it had a mind on its own, and absentmindedly dialed Cara's number.

I wasn't expecting it to ring because I thought she already blocked me. But it rang. And Cara answered. I couldn't speak. I couldn't get myself to speak.

After a brief pause, Cara's angelic voice that I have terribly missed slurred through the speaker.

"Hello?"

Cara's voice reverberated through my ears. And I could suddenly feel the pain in my hand. And I could finally see everything around me. And I could literally feel the hurt inside my chest again.

I dropped the call. I scanned through my phonebook and found Dr. Sanchez.

Dial tone. Then Dr. Sanchez's voice boomed the entire room as if she was here with me.

"Sam? Long time no call, huh? Merry Christmas!!! How have you been?"

I couldn't reply. I just didn't know what to do. Then I bursted into tears.

"Sam?? Samamtha? What's wrong?" she asked worriedly.

Then I exploded, "Everything happened so fast. Elise died. Cara broke up with me. I'm alone on a Christmas day.. I'm--"

"Sam, you need to calm down, okay?" Dr. Sanchez cut me off. "Are you still living on Mason Drive?"

"--and then I held this knife before me, but I didn't do it, I couldn't do it.."

What I said stopped Dr. Sanchez. She wasn't speaking anymore. And I could hear a car door slam from the background.

"--I punched the mirror because I wanted to kill myself but I couldn't..."

"Look, Sam," she cut me off again. "I'm near your building, okay? Just think of a happy thought. I'll be there."

"I ran out of happy thoughts. I tried the 3-day rule and I haven't been happy for weeks now... It's no longer working.. I.."

"I loved Cara," I went on, choking back a sob. "I loved her more than anything."

Dr. Sanchez kept silent as I heard tires screeching against the asphalt in the background.

"I just.. I just need help," I said softly.

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