October 15, 2016

October 15, 2016
Forest Grove Middle School
	Zach walked into the cafeteria, moving past all the chaos and noise, to the very back. He sat there, by himself, as he did every day. He pulled out his book and began to read. But he couldn’t focus with all that was on his mind. He knew what he was about to do, and no one else did. Which was good, because if they did he would be in deep shit.
	He was putting the book away when Isaiah sat next to him. Isaiah was cool, he didn’t hate him as much as he did everyone else in the cafeteria. If Isaiah knew what he was about to do, he would probably try to stop him. So of course, he’d have to do this quick.
	“Hey Zach.”
	“Hello.”
	Their conversations never consisted of more than three words; which Zach was happy with, he hated talking anyways.
	He needed to do this before Berenice showed up, he didn’t want her to have to see any of this. But he was having a hard time getting started.
	He began having second thoughts, but then he looked up, and was suddenly filled with hatred. He saw the idiots he had to go to school with, and it was disgusting. These people only cared about themselves and nothing more, they weren’t developed enough to know empathy or compassion. Not to mention they were the dumbest batch of students he’d seen since Kindergarten, which says a lot.
	And he remembered the entire weekend he spent doing homework. Now that he was in middle school, he didn’t have time for anything except homework. The only time he could read was in class, and he hadn’t played video games in weeks. He hadn’t felt happiness since last year. He knew this was the right path, the only path.
	The class began to get up to go to homeroom.
	Quickly, he pulled his lunchbox out of his backpack. In it was a bottle that would solve all his problems. He remembered getting up at 3 AM last night to get this bottle and put it in his lunchbox while his parents were asleep. He had to do it while they were asleep, because if they found out he would be in deep shit.
	He pulled the bottle out of his lunchbox, and opened the cap. The smell was repulsive, and the taste was probably ten times worse, but it would all be worth it. Looking at it now, the liquid looked similar to urine. As if it wasn’t disgusting enough. Still, he knew he had to do this. He had to do this to make the pain go away.
	Looking around, he saw that Berenice wasn’t here. Good, he thought. She doesn’t need to see what’s going to happen. He looked once more at the cafeteria and the idiots in it, breathed in, and took a swig of the bleach.
	The pain was indescribable, it felt like he was drinking the hottest lava on the planet. It went down his throat, burning everything it touched. Still he drank more, and more and more, until the pain was no longer bearable. He stopped drinking, and broke into a coughing fit. He coughed bleach all over the floor, all over the table, and a little on Isaiah. He broke down in tears, his throat still feeling like it was on fire. Everyone looked at him, horrified. Most didn’t understand what had happened, but they knew it wasn’t good.
	Zach continued to sob, wishing he would die already, he couldn’t take the pain anymore. Isaiah was stunned, horrified.
Mr. Goble had arrived, and led them to their class. Zach managed to pick himself up off the floor, and walk to class. Everyone staring at him the whole way there, but no one saying a word. Mr. Goble noticed Zach’s condition, but wasn’t aware of what Zach had just drank half a bottle of. When they arrived, Mr. Goble gave him a bottle of water, and asked him if he was okay. Zach replied with a nod, and drank the entire bottle of water in seconds, but it didn’t do anything to stop the pain.
	Eventually he stopped crying, and began work on the assignment Mr. Goble had given them. But the entire time, his mind was wondering: had he drank enough bleach? Was this all for nothing, and instead of solving his problems will it only create more? He had no way of knowing, so he tried to finish his assignment.
	The rest of the school day was a blur. At first people kept asking him what happened, and he pushed them all away, except for Andres.
	“Zach, are you okay?” He had asked.
	“Yeah I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”
	“Really? You don’t look so fine. Tell me what really happened.”
	Zach thought it was okay to tell Andres, he was trustworthy.
	“Well it seems l drank a bit of bleach.”
	“Oh.” Was all Andres said.
	Zach made it through the rest of the school day without talking to anyone else. He was picked up by his grandma, and taken to her house. His mom was busy doing who-knows-what, so he did his homework at his grandma’s place. He was nowhere near done with the mountain of homework he had, when he noticed his grandma on the phone with a grim expression on her face.
	Next thing he knew, he was taken home. His dad looked about as pissed as it gets. His dad thought he was just drinking bleach to be funny, or for attention. It seemed impossible that Zach, always full of spirit, would ever intentionally do this to hurt himself. But he was wrong, as Zach had explained through tears to him that he had attempted suicide.
	The only thoughts going through Zach’s head were, why wasn’t he dead? He had just drank half a bottle of bleach. Was that not enough? Surely it must have been, he couldn’t possibly drink anymore, the pain would be too much. The only thing he knew for sure, was that he was in deep shit.
	He arrived at the Emergency Room, and later his mom met him there. She was in tears. She said that if he ever killed himself, she would feel like such a failure as a parent that she would kill herself, too.
	That was crippling for Zach. He planned on trying something else and succeeding, but that information made it certain that he would never be able to take the easy way out.
	Zach did what he always did with adults, he acted positive and spirited, even though he just wished he drank more bleach. The nurses and doctors at the ER asked him questions about his mental state and why he did what he did, and of course he answered them with what they wanted to hear, with things about his regret and how big of a mistake it was. Which is true, he regretted not drinking more and that was a mistake, but they didn’t know that.
	They put him in a hospital gown and onto a hospital bed. As he drifted off to sleep with several needles in his arm, he began to wonder; what went wrong? Who told the teachers, who contacted his grandma, about his attempted suicide? Was it Andres, and was he wrong to trust him? Or was it someone who had witnessed the scene, like Isaiah? Either way, everything would’ve worked out better if he drank more bleach.
	The last thing he heard before he fell asleep was that he was to be transferred to a mental hospital. Well that should be fun, he thought. He then fell asleep, and dreamt of dark and eerie mental asylums.