March 9

8:30 p.m., March 9th, 2021: “I can’t do this anymore”.

Rubbing my blood-shot eyes, I stared at the glowing phone screen. Unthinkable. We, the youth of the next generation, the shining stars excelling with pride, actually once had hope for our pristine futures. Our destinies were castles in the air we’d grounded in the exquisite sand sculptures from summers at the beach. We had all once reached out to the curious world, exposed, fingers extended, with the open eyes of adolescence. Those sculptures were beautiful. Until they weren’t. Until my screen blurred in the onrush of tears.

I had been in complete denial for so long. Hell, I still am. I mean, she was the type of person that could survive anything. An awkward blind date, a terrifying parent-teacher conference, being grounded for months on end… Throw her into an apocalypse and she’d come out alive, for God’s sake. 

I scrolled up. 1:00 a.m., March 8th, 2021: “I’m so tired.”
2:15 a.m., March 8th, 2021: “Goodnight.”

2:30 a.m., March 8th, 2021: “Since when was falling asleep such a confounded job?” 

2:32 a.m. “I need some new melatonin.” 2:35 a.m. “R u up? I really want to talk.” 2:36. “Nevermind, I wouldn’t even know what to say.” 2:40. “How pathetic am I? I’m just typing words of nonsense while the rest of the world is asleep.” 

3:00 a.m. “Do you think I’ll ever be enough?”
3:01 a.m. “I’m sorry. I really wish you’d be awake right now.” 

4:59 a.m., March 8th, 2021: “I could try every day, work for what I want and need, but there are no paths to success, not from here.” I gulped. The roaring lump in my throat throbbed. How could I not have done anything? How incapable am I? As a friend? As a human being? As a member of this cruel society? 

I turned to the other side of the bed, resting my face on the cool side of the pillow. I kicked off the sheets. I turned again. And again. And again. I buried my face in the soaked pillow, muffling my hysterical wails. My pulsating brain threatened to thump through my temples; my hands shook, tearing at the crumpled pillowcase. I was so scared. 

I was scared because I felt lost. So, so lost. I didn’t know where my mind was headed: I had absolutely no control. All my hope, all my innocence, crumbled into specks of dust, fleeing this heartless world. It had been hours since my last sip of water. I hadn’t eaten for two days. Was anything even real? God, help me.

I kept scrolling. 4:00 p.m., February 15th, 2021: “That was so much fun! Thanks again for the cookies!” I shut my eyes. She seemed so happy. She truly had the smile of an angel from above — her eyes would arch into euphoric rainbows radiating artless joy, even hope. She’s finally home now. She’s finally in bliss.

10:00 p.m., February 10th, 2021: “I’ll always be here for you no matter what.” It almost felt as if she were still alive.

But, she wasn’t.

I sit here now, typing away at another chapter in my life. Each sentence, each word, still brings back memories, horrid and dreaded. Jolting. Cleansing. I feel her here with me. She’s always going to be here.

Here for me.

*If you or someone you know struggles with mental wellness, please call 400-161-9995, Shanghai 24/7 Hope Hotline.