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Story: Distorted Obsession
prologue
Cooper
Colt & Coop
I don’t think there’s ever a proper way to say goodbye. Not to the people who have loved and protected me my whole life. But I’m going to try because you all deserve this much for my cowardice in doing this while you two are away at school and Mom and Dad are out of the country.
I’m sorry… I tried. I really did, but I just can’t. I’ve relied on you both too much for too long, and the guilt of being so weak is eating at me as I pen these words.
What do you do when you can’t silence the villain whispering in your ear? How do you fight it when that villain is you? How do you face yourself in the mirror when all you see is the ugliness festering in your soul?
The answer is you can’t—none of it—all of it—you just can’t.
One person gave me temporary light. She gave me hope that I could defeat my demons—that I could conquer any obstacle. But I should’ve known that no light would last forever. Why would it? I’m shrouded in darkness. It was a joke to think I ever deserved her light.
These last three months battling without her have been a hell I couldn’t imagine. The only person who ever saw my darkness and loved me despite it turned her back on me.
How could she?
How could she go radio silent?
She left… she left, and her brother made her. He said I was so toxic that I was snuffing out her light. His words broke me.
I poured my soul into her, and she filled mine. Now—now, there’s a void where my heart used to beat, and I feel lost
Uncurling my fist,I straighten out the letter my sister left detailing her supposed crimes and the guilt it anchored to her bone-wary soul. I flatten it on the table in her hospital room, angry that I’ve ruined the last message we will ever get from her. Then, I reread the note Farrah left one more time as a tear drips down onto the hospital gown of my unresponsive sister.
“Dr. and Mr. Jacobi, I’m sorry. We’ve tried everything. There’s no brain activity. We can keep her on the ventilator, but there’s nothing else we can do.”
I listen to the doctor tell my parents the worst news. My baby sister—essentially dead.
“No… no… no,” my mother shouts. I watch as the usually very well-put-together chief psychiatrist of this hospital collapses. My father catches her and sits on the ground as she beats at his chest. “Bring her back. Make them bring her back.”
Spinning away from my sobbing parents, I make eye contact with Colter. We say so much without saying anything. Then I look back down and finish her last goodbye.
Thank you for being my big brothers. You both always shielded me from all the monsters, but unfortunately, thismonster is not one any of you could battle. It was up to me, and I’ve lost.
Don’t let Mom and Dad know that I was so weak—that I let someone ruin me past the point of redemption.
Please don’t let them blame themselves. Make sure they know I love them always.
I made this decision, and it holds no bearing on them. They love me—you all do, and for this reason, I’m sorry for whatever chaos I leave behind.
I have to go now, Coopie and Coco. I promise to be better in my next life. Remember— you are both my rock in this life and the next.
Rah
“No! You need to do something. My baby girl can’t be gone,” my father’s demanding cry rips me from the words that cemented Farrah’s end.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Jacobi. We did everything we could possibly do,” the doctor repeats, and I storm out of the room.
There’s no way I can stay around to watch them be crushed. As I move down the hallway, my brisk walk morphs into a slow jog.
She was alone and hurting while Colt and I were at school. Farrah was on the precipice, and we weren’t there to protect her. Do I know I’m centering myself by assuming the role of magical fixer to whatever may have caused my sister to believe this was the best solution?Yes! Do I care?No!
My fucking sister took her own life so she could stop being a burden, and I was lost in the pages of learning about fucking coding in Python—a subject that I can run better than the goddamn head of the department.
Dodging people walking by, I run, trying to escape the thought beating in my skull like an African djembe drum—thump, thump, thump. My heart pounds as the crisp winter air touches my skin.Thump… bang… thump… thump… bang.
Table of Contents
- Page 1 (Reading here)
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