The road seemed to stretch on forever as I sped down it. Taking note of the 40 mph speed limit, I inched down on the gas pedal a little farther with my big toe and the speedometer crept closer to 60 mph. The little splatters of rain on the roof of the car sounded like small pebbles dropping quickly, on after another. The sky darkened and let out a rumble of thunder.

Taking a deep breath, I suppressed the urge to burst into tears and swallowed the sobs that were threatening to erupt any second. How could I have let this happen? Why did I let him out of my sight? I shake my head to clear it of self-loathing thoughts before I swerve off the road. Zooming past the apartment, I let out a sigh of relief. The hospital is only five minutes away. I will see him in five minutes.

It started less than a month ago, the growing distance between David and I. We had both just gotten home from a long day at the internship…

David groaned while dumping his bag on the table. He was complaining about not wanting to work at Braxton Publishing anymore. He had been whining the whole ride home and it was irritating me. David and I shared a love of books ever since we were little. We worked so hard through high school and college to land this internship and now he wanted to give up. How could he throw all of our hard work out the window? I began angrily voicing my thoughts to him before he cut me off rudely.

“You don’t know what I want Lottie. Stop forcing your dreams to be mine!” He snapped. With an exasperated sigh, he stalked into his room and slammed the door, leaving me slack-jawed in the living room of our apartment. He hasn’t yelled at me like that since high school and I couldn’t wrap my head around what brought this argument on.

A few days later, he apologized to me and explained that he was just tired after a long day. As he rushed out the insincere apology, I take notice that his eyes flickered from place to place, a nervous habit he has when he lies. But I choose not to question him because I did not want to start another fight. The week passes on and I notice that David had become extremely quiet. He did not go out with the guys on Friday night and return home with liquor on his breath. He did, however, disappear that entire day and did not return at all at night.

Not letting his disappearance bother me too much, I engrossed myself in a manuscript I started reading for Braxton Publishing. The book was about a young girl planning on committing suicide. She drew into herself and didn’t socialize with her friends. She would lock herself in her room for hours to sulk and nope. While reading, my mind subconsciously drifted to David. I never knew what he was up to anymore. He barely spoke to me this morning before he left to only God knows where.

With a gasp, I put two and two together. The girl in the book and David had uncanny similarities in their behavior. Dread pools in my stomach and my heart drops as I consider the possibility that David could be depressed. Perhaps even upset enough to take his life. He has been irritated more often lately and he never smiled. He would often stalk past me having my dinner to lock himself in his room. Panic began to flood my mind as I continued to read and compare David to the girl. No, I told myself, he couldn’t be suicidal. He has always been a happy-go-lucky kind of guy. We’ve been friends for fifteen years. I knew him better than anyone else. Surely he has a reason for his despondent attitude lately.

More weeks dragged on as David’s behavior got stranger and more unlike him. He only addressed me as Charlotte on the rare occasions that he acknowledges my existence and it worries me since he never calls me anything but Lottie. He’s definitely lost weight and he always looks pale. David has always been rosy cheeked and muscular. Now he never looks anything but wanly. He’s almost never at the apartment anymore and when I inquired his friends about his whereabouts, they informed me that he’s been MIA for the entire week.


Whenever David was a no show for dinner, I found myself losing my appetite. Dinner had always been a cherished time for us. We would share the events of our day over pasta and wine. I couldn’t stop thinking that while I was slurping my spaghetti he was somewhere alone, brainstorming ideas on how to off himself. The pain from that thought overwhelms me and I go to throw up my dinner.

While David was still ignoring me, I did more research on suicide. I found out people who suffer from depression often lose their appetites which causes obvious weight loss. They also tend to speak about death often. Only the loss of weight applies to David since he hasn’t spoken enough to me or anymore for that matter to talk about death. All that research only made me scared and confused but I couldn’t help but become consumed with searching for signs of David’s possible depression. The obsession reached a whole new lever when I followed him to a friend’s house one morning. I crouched low behind a bush as I watched David walk up to the front door and knock. I recognized Jake, one of David’s good friends, when he opened up the door to greet him.

“Hey man!” Jake said, “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to give you my old record player. I know you wanted one and I really don’t need it anymore.” David explained while handing a box over to his friend.

“Wow, thanks!” Jake flashed a brilliant smile while David simply nodded and head back over to his car.

Later that night, I learned that people planning on suicide often gave away valuable belongings. As I scanned the article, my phone began to ring. Praying that it was David, I reached over, only to be disappointed by my mother’s contact flashing across the screen. I tapped ignore quickly and went back to reading. This is the third time she’s called tonight but I couldn’t help it. Figuring out what was wrong with David had become the most important thing in my life.

The next morning at the internship, I could not focus on anything besides David. I missed my best friend terribly. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I found myself slowly drifting off to sleep when a loud slam awoke me from my slumber.

“Charlotte, if you are going to fall asleep like yesterday and you might as well just leave!” Mr. Braxton, my boss, booms. I mutter a quick apology before scurrying off to avoid his harsh glare. In my hurry to leave, I bumped into David. He looked startled as I barreled into him. His arms reached out to steady me. Getting lost in the feel of his arms around me, I leaned farther into him instinctively. He voice brought me out of my trance.

“You okay Lottie?” He asks. His brown eyes are dead and empty as they appraise me.

“I’m fine.” I jerk away from him. “Are you leaving Braxton?” I ask, gesturing to the boxes surrounding his desk.

“Yes, I’ve decided to move on to something new.” He explains warily. I nod swiftly and walk away before I start sobbing at his distanced tone.

When I arrive at home, I picked the lock on David’s bedroom door with an old bobby pin. He taught me this trick when we were only kids. Making sure I didn’t miss a single spot, I blew through his rooms looking for clues. I was almost positive that he was suicidal now. I opened all the drawers and checked underneath his bed. After hours of looking, the only think I uncovered was a small piece of paper with a phone number on it. I pocketed it quickly before restoring the room to its original state and exiting quickly.

Things only kept getting worse as more days passed. My mother had fallen sick in the weeks that I ignored her and Mr. Braxton was extremely close to firing me. I almost gave on life entirely when I came home to find most of David’s things gone. There was a post-it note stuck on my bedroom door. It said:

Sorry, I’ve gone to stay with a friend for a while until I decide what to do next.

His insincere note brought me to tears. After everything we’ve been through together that was all he’s going to say? I cried myself to sleep that night

Now here I am, pulling into the hospital’s parking lot. That morning I had called the mysterious phone number I found and the man who picked up told me that David had been moved to this hospital. Without thinking about it, I jumped into my car and began to drive. Within minutes, I’ve located the room that David is currently residing in. Taking deep breaths to calm myself, I mentally prepared myself for his possibly bruised and battered appearance. I push open the door gently and walk in. His warm eyes find me and there is no surprise in them from seeing me. There is only understanding and apprehension.

Taking in the room, I notice that he is surrounded by tubes and his arm was stuck by multiple needles. I see no injuries and signs that he tried to take his life. If he didn’t try to kill himself then why was he here?

Almost as if reading my mind, David tells me that he knew I thought he was suicidal. He found my articles scattering the kitchen table. He told me that I couldn’t be farther from the truth. He continues to explain to me that he has been diagnosed with cancer. It’s leukemia. He was avoiding me and everyone because he didn’t want to hurt us. He didn’t want his sickness to interfere with my life and my dreams.

That’s when I finally understood. I never noticed how frail he looked until now. His bones jutted out in awkward places, straining against his skin. His face was pale and his lips cracked and purple. Dark bruises were prominent under his eyes. How did I not notice the signs before? He was gone because he was getting treatment. He gave away his things because he had no room for them in the hospital room. I had been so caught up in trying to save him from depression when he wasn’t even suicidal! I had cancer and I had no clue.

The doctor told him yesterday that he was no longer responding to treatment and they moved him into the hospital so he could die as painlessly as possible. I couldn’t be brave any longer and I burst into sobs that racked my body. Isn’t this what I wanted? I wanted to know what was wrong with him and I got my answer with an extremely high price tag. My dream job had been sacrificed. Mr. Braxton would not consider hiring me on as an editor. My mother had pneumonia and would not speak to me since I ignored her all those weeks. Now, my best friend was dying.

In the last few weeks of David’s life, my life had been inundated by one loss after another. I was no longer an intern at Braxton since I was fired for spending too much time at the hospital and not at work. My mother passed away and I spent her last dying hours with David. I am such a horrible person and I couldn’t believe I had let my obsession with saving him consume me so entirely that I forgot about my own mother.

David passed soon after my mother and I was left alone in this world. After months of moping around without a job, I finally had enough. Putting on a brave face, I drove to the beach and walked along the water for a few minutes. I smiled to myself as I wadded into the waves. I would be joining my mother and David soon. The price of knowledge was too high for even the world’s richest billionaires. The knowledge of David’s cancer had cost both his death and my mother’s. Now I would be joining them. Without another second of delay, I dove deep into the water.