Page 21 of Aftershock

“What happened the night you committed suicide?” I blurted out without thinking it over first.

“I figured that question was coming,” she laughed breathlessly. “Everyone asks, but no one is ready for the real answer.”

“Do you ever tell them the truth?”

“I don’t tell them anything,” she sighed.

Most people had a rough idea of what happened, but no one really knew the full story. Lexi had just turned twenty-two at the time. Sources said she had been found unconscious alone in her room after swallowing a whole bottle of prescription drugs. They had to put her in a medically-induced coma to save her life. I remember the feeling of my heart sinking when I first heard the news. I had come home from school, and it was being broadcast on almost every channel.

Swinging open the front door, I flung my backpack over the side of the couch as it landed with a thud on the cushion. I kicked off my shoes and stretched before announcing my presence.

“Mom! I’m home!” I shouted, my hands cupping my mouth while I faced the direction of the kitchen.

“Honey, is that you? I can’t hear you over the TV! Can you turn it down?” She screamed back.

Plopping down on the couch, I held the remote control in hand, shivering at the eerie feeling of deja vu that resonated deep within me as I thought about how my father used to have this exact same routine. Come home, kick off his shoes, announce his presence, then sit and watch TV. I was just about to mute the volume when a breaking news report popped up on the screen.

‘BREAKING NEWS! SINGER LEXI HARLOW IS IN THE HOSPITAL—’

“What?” I whispered.

I switched channels.

‘CELEBRITY LEXI HARLOW KNOWN FOR HER MUSIC CAREER IS IN CRITICAL

CONDITION—’

I clicked the remote again.

‘LEXI HARLOW IN BAD SHAPE AFTER A BOTCHED SUICIDE ATTEMPT—’

Click.

‘SINGER-SONGWRITER LEXI HARLOW OVERDOSED ON PILLS A YEAR AFTER

THE DEATH OF HER FATHER—’

Click.

‘UNSURE ABOUT HER CURRENT STATUS, BUT IT'S NOT LOOKING GOOD—’

“Oh my god…”

It’s crazy how attached you could be to someone you barely knew, and yet when they felt pain, it was almost as though you felt it too. The scary thing about reliving that memory, though, was realizing that I had less of a reaction after finding out my own father had died. This was a heavy topic and I felt like shit for even asking her that question in the first place. I was prying for information that wasn’t mine to know in the first place. Lexi was not my family, and in all honesty, she probably didn’t even consider me a friend. I had no right to invade her privacy in that way.

“Enough of your life has been scrutinized by the public. You deserve to have things that you can keep to yourself.” I offered a sad smile. “So, pretend I never asked.”

“No!” She shot back while making a fist and slamming it down on her knee. “I’m sick of censoring myself and my experiences. I don’t want people to think that depression is some kind of taboo subject. Maybe if someone told me that it wasn’t, I would’ve talked to someone about what I was feeling instead of trying to take my own life.”

I opened my mouth to insist that she didn’t need to feel obligated to share her story, but instead, what came out was, “Okay.”

There was no way I was about to sensor her like her managers and publicists had been doing for her entire life.

Lexi let out a shaky breath, as though she were rethinking her decision. I put my hand on her shoulder as a sign of support.

“I’m here for you if you need someone to listen, but I won’t push if you decide you’re not ready.”

Without a second thought, she began to speak.

---