End it all

Crying, I scratch "it isn't your fault" on a crumbled, tear soaked paper from an old school binder. Maybe if I had more time, things would have worked out? Maybe in another life, but this life is too much. I continued scrawling goodbyes on a page, then I remembered, no one is going to care to even read it. I'm ending it all for the good of the people.

Once the deed was done, the town held a memorial in his honor. The chess club he was in had a uniform made in his honor and retired his number. His obituary reached the whole community and brought families closer together. Mental health became the priority it should have been. The funeral was a celebration of life celebrated by classmates, family and friends, sharing their favorite moments and memories with him.

Though he wasn't with us, he made us realize the signs we missed when he was with us. We made a mistake, but we don't blame ourselves. We learn what goes through their mind and offer help and listen when they talk.