Chapter Sixteen: On An Edge.

"Hello?"

"Hi, I need your help." I cut to the chase as soon as Carter answers his phone. I'm currently at the mall, trying to find an anniversary present for Jake. We're in a Louis Vuitton store. Jake decided to buy a new duffel bag since the one he has is almost ripping from its constant use. I excused myself to call Carter while Jake was attended to by a worker. I'm still not out of it but I want to give him something special before his performance tomorrow and before I tell him. I know that materialistic things don't equal emotions but I want to give him something that will hold some kind of sentimental value like his necklace holds something to me.

"Ok..." Carter sounds hesitant, probably because of my abruptness to ask. "With what?"

"You do know my and Jake's six month anniversary was on Sunday, right?"

"No... But okay."

I roll my eyes. "I'm at the mall and I need you to help me find him an anniversary present by giving me some suggestions." I say. "You're a man, what would you prefer if your girlfriend were to get you something?"

"Are you alone at the mall?" Carter remarks, not answering my question.

"No, I'm with Jake." I respond. "Now answer my question."

"No. If he's with you, ask him. Why call me, Sky?"

"Stop being such a pissy asshole and help me." I murmur into my phone as I notice Jake approaching. "He doesn't know I'm buying him something."

"Doesn't he wear watches?" Carter says.

"Yeah, that's a good one. Thanks, I gotta go." I abruptly hang up. "Did you find anything?" I ask Jake as he comes empty-handed.

"I have a few choices but I need your help." I'm not surprised. The few times we've done shopping together -- most of those times online, Jake has asked for my opinion and acceptance on whatever he's purchasing. Dad also does this with Mom. I guess, it's a man-thing.

"Show me." I grab hold of his hand and he walks me to the shelf, showcasing several different bags.

"I was thinking about this one." He points to a bag almost the same size as the one he has at home. This one is only slightly bigger with the typical Louis Vuitton brown checkered print. "But then, I saw this carry-on." They both have the same design and I still don't know why he's struggling to choose one. "I'm not sure which one would be more convenient for me. I like having a duffel bag but do you think I should change to a carry-on? It would last longer, right?"

"It would but, you don't carry a lot of stuff. If you buy the carry-on, it'll technically be half empty every time you use it." I say. Men aren't like us -- women -- who take an insane amount of items when traveling for a short period of time. Jake always takes the same pair of shoes and jeans, only adding different shirts and a few sweatshirts and his favorite sweats plus his toiletries; shaving cream, razor, toothbrush, cologne. He only varies his outfit choices if he's traveling for something important. And even in those situations, the amount of things he packs aren't a lot. "I think you should go for the bag. It's the perfect size for the amount of stuff you carry and it's what you're used to traveling with."

"Okay." He says, "Thanks, Petal." Jake pecks me, quickly before turning around to get the employee's attention.

"Anytime." I reply.

She moves toward us. "Did you decide?" She smiles, politely and I'm thankful she's not one of the flirty employees we've encountered in other stores.

"Yeah, I'll go with the duffel bag." Jake answers, dragging me closer to him.

"Same color as this one?" She takes out a key chain, many keys colliding together. She crouches down and picks a key, opening a drawer at the bottom of the showcasing shelf.

"Yes, please."

She searches through a pile of boxes and then takes out a brown one. "Got it. Follow me to the counter." She stands, box in hand and walks to the desk up front. Once we reach it, she goes behind the desk and opens the bag, testing the zippers of Jake's soon-to-be new duffel bag. After finishing the inspection, she closes the box and scans the barcode, telling Jake his total.

He begins to extract his credit card from his wallet, located in one of his back pockets when I speak, "I'm paying." I decide to go against Carter's suggestion and be spontaneous, buying Jake the duffel bag as his anniversary present.

"Are you crazy?" He chuckles, starting to give the girl his credit card again. I shove his hand away, giving the girl my credit card. The present will be a small blow to my bank account but I don't care. She looks between us in amusement as I tell her, "Take it." at the same time Jake tells her, "No, don't take it."

I give her a sympathetic look and she gives in, taking my card. Jake gives me a small groan in defeat while I grin in victory. She gives me our purchase and I hand it to Jake, "Your anniversary present."

He narrows his eyes, silently reminding me of what he told me Sunday morning.

"I don't get you things expecting to get something back from you."

He slightly shakes his head then kisses my temple.

Before we leave the store, the girl asks Jake if she can get a picture. He kindly agrees also signing a piece of paper for her, thanking her for her kind customer service. She says goodbye and we exit the store. Jake being constantly stopped when we go out has become something I'm used to. It doesn't bother me a lot but sometimes I wish we could just be us -- normal human beings -- for a day.

"I never asked for anything." Jake remarks, moving us to the side. He conceals his presence and mine by facing the store, giving his back to the pedestrians around the mall.

"I know but, I wanted to--" I'm unable to finish, interrupted by the ringing of his phone.

He pulls it out, "I have to take this." He says, apologetically. Jake tries to conceal the number on the screen. These frequent phone calls have been an occurring thing since two weeks ago. I've asked him about it but he always gives me a vague, mischievous answer and the fact that he's receiving one now, makes my mind want to think things I know he wouldn't do.

"Go ahead, I'll go buy a cup of coffee while you solve your business." I murmur.

"Sky, I'm--" He automatically reads through my words, noticing my discontent.

"It's fine." Truthfully, I'm half bothered by the calls and half bothered by my mind that keeps sinking more every hour. Or maybe I'm only completely bothered by my mind.

• • •

"Are we ready to go?" Jake asks as we walk aimlessly through the mall, holding hands. He's received a few side glances and double takes but has thankfully, been approached by not as many people as I thought.

"Yeah," I reply as we come to a stop in front of the elevator to go to the underground parking lot. Seconds later, it arrives, opening the doors to an empty cart.

Jake pushes the parking lot button. He pulls me closer to me like he always does, kissing my forehead. "Thank you for my gift. I didn't get the chance to thank you, earlier."

"You're welcome, Bunny." I speak, kissing his jaw.

The elevator doors open. As we exit it, my eyes widen at the person in front of us, who's waiting for the elevator. Only the horrible kind of fate will submit me to a situation like this one. Especially on this week, this day when I'm most low. He hasn't changed a lot since I last saw him three years ago. He looks more masculine, mature, lean -- an obvious sign that he has been working out -- than he was when we were together in high school but still has his signature shaggy black hair and freckled high cheekbones.

"Ben?" The words leave my mouth before my brain registers them.

"Sky? Long time no see." Ben directs his gaze from his phone to us at the sound of my voice. He smirks at me, cockily and I start to wonder what I saw in him back then enough to make me date him.

"Yeah... Um, Jake, this is Ben. Ben, this is my boyfriend Jake." I awkwardly introduce my ex-boyfriend to my current partner. Jake's demeanor changes at my words. His body straightens and I can feel his muscles tense.

"The Jake Caplin?" Ben inquires in awe, his eyebrows raising as he pockets his phone. "I'm surprised you've found someone as good as him to date you."

"Ben." I warn, aware of Jake's muscles increasing their tension by the minute.

"Oh..." Understanding downs on him and I feel at disadvantage. He looks at my eyes and I know he notices my state. Ben knows my secret and its signs; he's capable of blurting it out. "He doesn't know, does he?" He questions, the glim of mischief growing on his eyes. "No wonder he's still with you."

"Sky." Jake snaps, subtly warning he's close to giving up on holding back.

"Anyways, it was nice seeing you but, I gotta go." Ben informs, looking at his watch. "Good luck." He winks before getting on the elevator.

I can feel Jake's desire to ask. "I'll explain when we get home." I beat him to it, wanting to gain more time to gather my thoughts and plan everything out. I side scope at him with the questioning and unsure look on his face. "I promise."

He wasn't suppose to find out today but life has its own way of working. Negative thoughts start to bombard my subsconcious, reminding me of the billions of ways things could go wrong and end once he finds out. We reach our car. Jake unlocks it, immediately going in. I open the door and sit on the passenger seat, putting my seatbelt on. The drive is silent and edgy. And I know Ben and I are responsible for the strain between Jake and me. Throughout our drive, I let my thoughts consume me. I should've listened to Sara, Mom, Carter, everyone who told me I should've told Jake since the commence of our relationship. He wouldn't have wasted those months with me. I wouldn't be in this position. I start to play with the heart pendant of my necklace, in hopes of distracting myself.

We arrive to the apartment without a word being spoken between us. As soon as he locks the door, Jake sits on the living room couch, supporting his arm on the arm of the couch as he waits for me to start speaking.

I begin to pace the space in front of the coffee table and suddenly blurt out, "I'm bipolar." I don't dare to look at his face for a reaction because I know whichever it is, I won't be able to bear it. "I found out my senior year of high school while dating Ben. I had presented signs of the illness throughout my teen years but Mom and Dad -- especially Dad -- were in too much denial to admit it until I turned eighteen." I explain. "According to all the testing, I inherited from my dad's father. I wanted to tell you but I was afraid I'd lose you." I confess, "I don't take any sort of medication because it makes me feel dead and numb. I want to be able to feel and live my life as normal as I can, even if it requires me to be crazy. Mom and Dad worry because they don't know what I'll do whenever an episode hits whether it's high or low."

"In Miami... The no sleeping, hyperactivity... You were having one, weren't you?" Jake points out in a mumble, his voice barely audible and I don't know if I should take that as a bad sign.

I nod, confirming his words. "I've gotten three during our relationship but, I've tried my hardest to hide them from you because I knew that once you'd find out, you wouldn't look at me the same way. Ben, didn't." My eyes start to water and my throat starts to feel clogged. "I wanted to tell you on Sunday night but, I couldn't bring myself to do it, always putting it off." I reveal, trying to justify my decision. "I'm crazy and there's nothing I can do about it. My unstable mind has costs me. Sometimes I'm so high or so low, I can't remember what I do. According to what Mom, Dad and Carter have told me, I didn't drop out of college because I wanted to start my own online store. I did it because I was having an episode were I believed I knew everything college was teaching me and that I could find a multibillion dollar paying job without a degree. I was feeling high and mighty, like I ruled and owned the world." I inform him. "After the episode was over, it was too late. I had to find my own way of earning money and having a job and that's how I started the store." I ramble. The first tear escapes and I quickly brush it away. "Mom and Dad have been afraid history repeats since I'm not taking mood stabilizers and medication whether it's with a high or low." I report. "It's why Dad was so reluctant to our relationship at the beginning. My grandfather was never treated for his illness because he thought he wasn't sick. He ended up committing suicide and Dad is afraid I'll follow the same route." I'm beyond the point of being able to clean my tears; there's too many of them. Jake's face is somewhat distraught at my words. "He blames himself for my illness every day." I tell him. "Carter didn't inherited it and sometimes I wonder, why me, you know? Why do I have to be insane?" I say, "Sometimes I wonder which part of me is feeling or thinking. If it's the insane or the sane part. When I started falling for you, I questioned myself and my feelings toward you. But, as time went by, I realized that the part of me that fell for you was both. Because they're entirely me. And I love you with everything that I am. It's something I don't want you to doubt. I want you to know that you know who I truly am. Any part of our relationship that involved me was never fake. I felt everything I said to you; from the I love you's to the I want you's."

Finally telling Jake has drained me, emotionally and physically more than I already am. I have never had two episodes in less than six months. The burden of the secret has triggered me. Ever since we started dating, I promised myself I would tell him once we reached the first milestone of our relationship. The closer the date got, the more stress my brain felt. The silence hanging between us has the tension growing. I wish he would say something. Anything. Does he still want me? Has this changed our relationship too much? The silence is broken when Jake's phone pings with a new text message. He takes his phone out of his pocket as we are both disconnected from our train of thoughts, opening the text.

"I-- I have to go, I have rehearsals with the boys and I'm running late." Jake mutters, standing up from the couch. "We'll talk later." He kisses my forehead.

All I hear is his footsteps disappearing until the front door of our apartment is closed and then nothing. Everything is a deafening silence and my mind takes advantage of it. He didn't leave for rehearsal. He's not coming back. Rehearsals is just his getaway excuse. Jake wouldn't do that, would he? But now that he knows the possibility exists, doesn't it? Ben left me, why wouldn't Jake? Nobody likes dealing with a psycho. Not even Mom and Dad can bear to see me. All they see is a sick, crazy little girl with pitiful eyes. Carter tries to hide it but I know he feels the same way. Everyone who knows feels the same way. My body is shaking with my sobs. I'm so numb, I didn't even know I was still crying. Jake didn't even say "I love you" before he left. All I know is that he left. He left me and he's not coming back. I know. All I get to keep from him is a crystal heart hanging from my neck. One that will soon shatter into a thousands pieces like mine is now.

• • •

JAKE

"Can we start over?" I ask, apologetically.

I run my hands through my hair in frustration. We've had to replay the last run three times and I still can't hit the note. Sky's avowal has me distracted. I wasn't stupid enough I didn't notice some of her unusual moods but I never expected it to be a serious mental illness. Whenever I asked, she would blame it on hormones, saying her period was approaching. She doesn't know what I think about it, yet. And she will most likely not find out tonight. It's a quarter before nine p.m and we're still rehearsing for tomorrow. Before we get the chance to repeat the run, my phone rings.

Incoming Call: Carter Atkin

I frown, confused. Sky's brother barely calls me and I can't help but think something is wrong. I excuse myself from the band to answer the call.

"Hello?"

"Jake." His voice is desperate and panicked. My heartbeat increases in anticipation. "You have to go to the apartment now. You have to find her." He tells me. "Sky left me a voicemail." He manages to say. "She was saying goodbye and that she loved me and Mom and Dad, telling me she told you. She said you left for rehearsals but that you weren't coming back. She said she's finally making everyone happy. She's having an episode; low and psychotic." He pauses before adding, "You have to find her now. I called her phone and the house phone but she won't answer either of them."

I'm leaving the studio as soon as Carter mentions Sky. Sky's lack of energy, happiness and wittiness were all signs of depression. Signs I chose to avoid because I believed if she were suffering from something she would have told me. The thought of finding Sky's limp body in our apartment has me shaking as I insert the key into the car's ignition. She thought I left her. That I wasn't coming back. She thinks I'm doing the same thing he did when she told him. "I'm on my way." I choke out, hanging up. I drive recklessly, breaking an inconsiderable amount of traffic laws. At the same time, begging I'm not stopped by a cop. The studio is normally thirty minutes away from our apartment but I manage to arrive in under fifteen minutes. Each second that goes by, I beg for her to still be alive. For it not to be too late. I don't want to start thinking about the wave of emotions I would feel if I were to find her. The sadness and grief that would consume me. I don't care that she's mentally ill. That she thinks she's crazy. I love her. When you love someone the way I love her, nothing matters but the feelings you feel for each other.

By the time I reach the front of our home, I'm almost sweating and hyperventilating, afraid of what I might find on the other side of the door. I turn the knob and I'm engulf by utter silence.

"Sky?" I call out, receiving more silence in return.

I walk further into the apartment, taking wary steps. The living room is neat; no mess as well as the kitchen. The couch has a small dent on its pillow, indicating she was here not too long ago. I continue to walk further into the apartment, walking through the halls. I open every door, in search of her but come up empty. The guest room and its closet are intact. The bathroom and the first aid kit have all of their belongings. Our room is the same way we left it this morning prior to leaving to the mall. The apartment is empty, no Sky. My heart starts beating faster, trying to come up with any idea of where she could be. I need to find her before it's too late. There's no note or anything hinting of where she might have gone. She can't be too far. I'm pacing the apartment, tugging at the roots of my hair.

The terrace.

She has to be there. I exit the apartment, not bothering to lock the door. Finding Sky is the only important thing, right now. I franticly press the call button of the elevator, mentally begging it to rapidly arrive. Every second it takes is a second I lose. When it arrives, I continuously press the button to the last floor until the doors close and it starts to ascend. My thoughts are going a hundred miles per hour, once I'm process one, another is already taking over my mind. As soon as the door opens, I flee to the stairs, taking them by two until I reach the terrace door. And there she is.

She's still alive.

She's standing on the ledge, right on the edge. Her back is to me, she hasn't noticed my presence. It's a bitter cool, December night and she's not wearing any coat, only the sweater and jeans she had this morning. The chilly wind hits her blonde hair. She doesn't bother to fix it like she normally does, only standing there like a statue meant to look at the New York skyline. I notice she's holding the pendant necklace I gave her on our anniversary. Her grip is on the chain, the heart pendant hanging and moving with the wind. The lights of the nearby buildings reflecting on the diamond as it moves back and forth.

"Sky!" I call out, walking closer to her.

"He left." She says in a barely audible mutter. "He's not coming back."

"Sky--" She begins to talk again, before I have the chance to continue.

"If I jump, it'll go away. I... I won't be crazy anymore." She laughs, humorlessly. It's an empty, scary laugh. "Mom, Dad, Carter, no one will have to worry. They won't even know I'm gone."

I call Carter as she talks, unsure of how to respond or deal with her episode. I've never seen her this bad; to the point she doesn't recognize nor acknowledges my voice. As if I was a voice coming from her subconscious. Nothing physical.

"Did you find her?" It's the first thing he says, answering his phone on the second ring.

"Yes. I talk to her but she keeps referring to me as if I wasn't the one talking. She said that if she jumps, it'll go away and no one will notice she's missing. I don't know what to do. I want to help her but I don't know how, damn it!" I shout in frustration. I'm feeling so helpless, it's killing me, drowning me in misery.

"Fuck," I hear Carter whisper. "Listen, she's depressed and psychotic. Her mind is making her believe things that are impossible. I'll hang up and call an ambulance. Try to keep her from jumping until they arrive." I tell Carter we're on the terrace of our building before the line goes dead.

I immediately return my attention to her. My goal.

"Sky, if you jump, it won't go away." I try to reason with her. "You'll die and I'll be alone. Don't do this." I continue to slowly walk to her, trying to keep my approach oblivious to her.

My heart feels like it's on my throat and my throat feels like it's going to close up. Her shoulders are shaking. I'm unsure whether it's because she's crying or the weather has her shivering.

"He doesn't love me like he said he did. He left just like he did." She begins to ramble but this time I don't find it as cute as I used to in other occasions. "He said that if I jump, I'll be with him. Happy. He said he jumped and he's now happy."

I suddenly realize that she's not only talking about me and Ben but also her grandfather. He seems to be the person her mind is voicing. "He's lying, Petal. Listening to me, I know what will make you happy. I've always known." I'm now at arms reach of her. "Come with me. I'll make it go away." I promise her, gently interlocking our fingers.

Relief overflows my body when she gives in to my touch. I start walking her back and away from the edge with me.

Once we are at a safe distance, I sit her down, taking my jacket off and putting it on her shivering body. I cup both of her cheeks with my hand, making her look at me. Her beautiful mossy green eyes are hidden, her pupils fully dilated, turning her eye color black. Although this is not the Sky I fell for, I still love her. This side of her. I begin to hear the faint sound of sirens approaching our building.

"I deserve to be put down like a dog." She mutters, tears falling and hitting my hands. "I'm a burden."

"Never say something like that. You deserve everything and more. You are not a burden. Everyone loves you, Petal. I love you. This is just a small fault, you'll get the help you need. You'll be okay." I hug her against me as she cries, heart wrenching sobs that tug at my heart as I wait for the paramedics to reach us.

I never knew she could struggle so much with this illness. I never knew she was capable of losing herself in it. I never knew bipolar disorder had the ability of taking her away from me, herself and her family. But until today, I also didn't know a perfect petal like her could be slightly damaged.

* * * *

NOTE:

I do NOT condone, support or encourage suicide in any way, shape or form. Nor am I trying to romanticize the act with this chapter. My goal is not to encourage any of my readers to do such act. My goal is to create awareness and make whoever reads this chapter, realize how such act affects the person and those around him/her. If you or anyone you know is struggling with depression or thinking about suicide, please contact anyone close to you (them) about the issue or call your local suicide hotline:

• http://www.suicidehotlines.com

• 1-800-273-TALK