Page 83 of Unmasking Mayhem
My grip tightens around the gun, and the roar of silence crescendos, pushing me deeper into my thoughts. I envision the gunshot piercing the stillness of the night, envision the shock on their faces—the understanding that I chose to leave them behind without a word. I can see the devastation spread across their eyes and can almost hear the anguished cries echoing through the hollow spaces where once laughter thrived.
I lie here, staring at the pistol in my hand, the cold metal feeling foreign yet achingly familiar. The night's moonlight filters through the blinds, casting striped shadows across the floor, and in that bright glow, memories of Whitney and Raze swirl around me, bittersweet and haunting.
Whitney’s laughter haunts me in the silence. It’s always been like a melody, bright and vibrant, cutting through the thick fog of despair that has settled in my mind for far too long. I can see her, her curly hair bouncing with every step, the spark in her eye that made the mundane feel like an adventure. Then there’s Raze—my anchor, my brother in arms. We shared dreams under starlit skies, talking about everything and nothing, the good times rolling like the waves we used to surf together.
And now? Now both of them are lost to me, drifting away on the dark sea of my spiraling thoughts. I love them fiercely, yet somehow, I feel more like a burden than a beacon. It's like I have this thick glass wall between us, a barrier made of guilt and shame. Every time I reach out, it feels like I'm just too far away to matter. I don’t want them to watch me drown.
Days fade into a blurry montage of despair, punctuated only by fleeting moments of brightness that are soon overshadowed by the weight I carry. I’m a ghost of myself, haunting the memories of who I used to be. I’ve tried to fight; God knows I’ve fucking tried. But no amount of therapy or medication seems to dull the ache. It’s always there, a constant thrum, drowning out any light that flickers in my heart.
I grip the gun tighter, my hands shaking not just from fear but from the realization that I completely, utterly feel like I’ve lost the will to fight. I can’t bear the thought of dragging Whitney and Raze down with me any longer. The thought of their tears, their disappointment—it cuts deeper than the shame I’ve been feeling. They deserve better. I close my eyes, imagining Whitney's soft voice urging me to hold on just a little longer, and I want to; I really do. But the darkness is so thick, so suffocating, that it feels like I’m already fucking drowning.
The weight in my chest feels heavier than the world I’m leaving behind. The shadows stretching across the room, pooling like the dark thoughts that never seem to lift. I can hear the muffled hum of the city, but it all feels so far away. It’s like watching a movie I’m no longer a part of.
Whitney’s laughter continues to echo in my mind, bright and crystalline. I used to chase her joy like a moth to a flame, believing somehow her light would illuminate the darkness that clings to me. But now, even the warm memories are tainted with hues of remorse. I see her face—her gentle eyes filled with concern when I can’t mask the despair anymore. I’ve tried to fight, to claw my way back to the surface, but every time I break through, I slip back into this abyss. Raze, too—his friendship has been a lifeline, but even he can’t pull me from the depths I’ve sunk into. I’ve become a burden, and I can’t bear to drag them down with me any longer.
The gun lies cold and heavy. I stare at it, the polished metal glinting ominously in the fading light. For weeks, I’ve thought about the moment I would finally let go—nights spent wrestling with my mind, trapped in the cage of anxieties and fleeting memories. No more pain, I tell myself. No more pretending I’m okay when I’m anything but.
I remember the day Whitney first kissed me, her lips soft against mine, full of warmth and life. We were idiots wrapped upin each other, living in our own little world. And Raze, with his infectious passion for riding and his ability to breathe life into the mundane—he was everything I admired. God, how I wanted to be enough for them. But I’ve failed at every turn, hollowed out by a struggle that feels endless, leaving only echoes of sorrow in my wake. Tears threaten to spill as I hear Whitney’s whispered words from the last time we were together.
“Hawk, please don’t shut me out. I love you.”
Love.
I never wanted to wound them with my choice, but here I am, ready to render myself silent, to sever the ties that bind. They’ll grieve, but grief will mend—time will teach them to forget the man I’ve become. I close my eyes, the gun still resting in my hand. What would it take to paint over this darkness? A moment of peace? A release? I think of their faces one last time, a heartbreaking picture of love interlaced with despair. I don’t want to hurt them further, but I can’t bear the thought of dragging them down into the fucking void with me. I can’t let them try to save me when I’ve already chosen to lose myself.
I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my ears, an avalanche of memories cascading down like a roaring river. And in this moment, for the first time in so long, I feel a flicker of clarity amidst the chaos. I won’t have to fight anymore. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, letting the tears flow freely now, a final farewell to the world that has become so unbearably dark.
The last image I hold onto is Whitney smiling, Raze watching her with a cigarette tucked between his lips, and light spillingaround them. Then, the world fades into a silence, heavy yet somehow freeing. I’m ready to step away, to let go, and as I drift into that abyss, I wonder if they’ll remember me as I was, before the demons became too much. Putting the gun under my chin, I embrace the darkness and pull the trigger, a final breath escaping my lips, the weight falling away, heartbroken yet strangely serene.
twenty-six
the beginning
5 months later, may
Whitney
Angel: Amanda Perez
Idig my toes into the sand as the water comes crashing against the shoreline, the pitch-black sky hovering over me, glowing brightly, filled with stars. The warm California breeze casts a shiver along my spine, while my hair blows in the increasing wind. A storm is coming, and it's going to be a big one. I'm here for it, and so is he.
I smile, still finding it painful to use the muscles I quit using five months ago. Suddenly, he crosses my mind, and my smile reaches further, although not quite to my eyes. It's a start. Closing my eyes, I tilt my face toward the sky over the ocean, choppy waves echoing in my ears. Warm droplets from the waves trickle all over my skin, followed by the cold drops of rain from above.
My sad playlist on Spotify plays from my phone, pulling me deeper into my mind as I try to fight my way just to stay above water. Even though they're sad songs that make me cry whenever I hear them because they remind me of Hawk, they're healing in their own fucking twisted way. The lyrics are therapeutic. The beat is calming. And the tears that I cry are freeing.
It's been five months since you went away, left without a word and nothing to say. When I was the one who gave you my heart and soul. But it wasn't good enough for you, no
So I asked God; God, send me an angel from the heavens above
Send me an angel to heal my broken heart from being in love
'Cause all I do is cry
God, send me an angel to wipe the tears from my eyes
Even the song on now—Angel by Amanda Perez—makes me cry, and there's an emptiness in my heart that aches like fucking crazy. The irony of the lyrics, huh? It's been five months since Hawk took his own life, leaving us in the dark—without a word. Not a day goes by that I haven't thought about him. So far, nothing has gotten easier. I've been thrown into a black hole, and I'm finding it hard to summon the will to pull myself out.
I've thought about joining him on more than one occasion. But if I were to go, Raze wouldn't have a chance at living a somewhat normal life. Knowing him, he'd join us the night after I go. The three of us were meant to be together until the end. Of course we were. Life wouldn't have put us through hell and back if we weren't always meant to be in each other's lives.
