My hand quivers as I clench the metal shaft. The trees loom over me, shading my body. The burning sun is covered by branches. The forest is silent. Calm. Peaceful. I almost feel sorry for wrecking this wonderful serenity. But soon I won't feel sorry. Soon I won't even remember this day. The day I took my own life.
My fingers move slowly towards the trigger. The gun is cold against my skin, but it won't be for long. My index finger positions itself. I get ready to shoot. My lungs heave for the last time, letting a slow deep breath escape my lips.
Then I hesitate.
I breathe in and out, my heart pounding. This is what I've always wanted. To leave this wretched place. To escape from this hellhole I live in. But why can't I?
Frustrated I position my fingers once again. I feel the air heave out of my lungs. I pull back the trigger, hearing the deafening sound of the gun.
My body falls to the ground, hitting the solid dirt. Then my lungs fill with air. In. Out. In. Out. I can't feel the rapid pain shooting through my body. I can't feel blood seeping out through the wound. But I can feel the arm wrapped around me. I can feel the boy breathing along beside me. I can feel him as I'm pressed across the damp muddy ground.
I push myself up and watch as his arm leaves my waist. The gun. I've got to find the gun. I scavenge around the clearing, but return unable to find anything. I face him as he stands before me. His messy hair falling softly over his face. His dark chocolate eyes hidden from sight. He mutters something I can hardly hear.
"I'm not going to let you die."
The forest remains silent as we watch each other.
"Why?" I ask "Why would you care?"
He doesn't answer.
"Why would you, Ivan Johnson, the most popular guy in school, give a fuck about me?" I storm. "I doubt you even know who I am."
He pauses for a moment to think.
"You're Tia Mahogany, sixteen years old, you sit in front of me in maths class."
I remain speechless at his answer, unable to think of any remark to make him leave. How would he know about me? No one else even notices I'm there, no one would care if I leave. Suddenly I spot the gun in his back pocket and it becomes my new mission, get the gun and leave before he can yell for help. I step towards him and he stays still, uncertain of my plan. My hand snakes around to his back and snags at the gun.
In one swift move the gun is back in my hand, pointed at my heart. His eyes flash with fear and I peer into them trying to find any sign of fakery. My hands arrange themselves perfectly into the build of the gun. My finger pulls back the trigger. I prepare myself for the-
"Don't." Ivan whispers. "Tia, don't."
I sigh and lift the gun. I whisper something back before the gun sounds.
"Why?"
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