Lost

“Hi, I’m Ethan!” I hear a 6-year-old boy shout behind me, who looked to be only a year older than me.

I turn around to be faced with a pale, short boy with hazel eyes, messy, dark brown hair; ears that stick out like a monkey, and a smile so big that could change the world.

“Hi! I’m Victoria!” I respond to the older boy by offering my hand, just like my father taught me to do as a sign of respect.

“Nice to meet you, Victoria. I’m new here. I’m your neighbor. I saw you over here sitting on the grass alone and I thought I could join you and become friends! I have no friends, and you looked nice from afar.” Ethan rambles.

“Yeah! Let’s be friends!” I excitedly respond to him, smiling widely.

I never had many friends here, I was always an outcast; I am a shy girl and mainly kept to myself. Coloring on my own, doing work on my own, and sitting alone on a bench during recess time; I even ate alone during snack and lunchtime.

Knowing someone wants to be friends with me, made me the happiest in a long time.

“I have a twin brother! His name is Daxton. That’s him over there,” Ethan says pointing back towards his yard across the street, showing a boy that looks exactly like him.

This is going to be complicated.

“That’s so exciting!!” I say, getting excited that you can all be friends.

“We can all have a play date together!” Ethan says, clapping his hands, becoming giddy.

-3 years later-

“Victoria!” I hear Ethan yell my name, running into my house and up to my room.

“Victoria! Guess what?!”

“What?!” I respond, just as excitingly.

“I. Kissed. A. GIRL!”

“What?! No way!” I say, happy for him but also feeling a little tang of jealousy.

“Yes, way! Behind a bush! Dax was there, but still, I KISSED A GIRL!”

“That’s great, Ethan!”

“I think that means we are girlfriend and boyfriend...? I think. I don’t know,” He says, a little unsure of the situation.

-2 weeks later-

“She broke up with me!” Ethan finally says after sobbing into my pillows for about an hour.

“Then she’s not worth it, Ethan. I mean, I know I’m only 10, but still. You’ll find someone,” I say, trying to show empathy for him, but really, I was a little happy.

I was sick of seeing them in the elementary hallways holding hands, sick of her taking my best friend away from me. Sick of it.

-4 years later-

“You guys should just start a YouTube channel,” you say after hearing them talk about how they want to make videos for hours.

“What’s YouTube?” They both ask at the same time.

God, they really are twins.

“Look it up. It’s too hard to explain,” I say annoyingly.

I’ve been a little irritable lately, but I think that’s due to my parents getting a divorce.

Dax and Ethan have noticed, they just stopped asking once I flipped out on them. I felt a little bad, but what can I say, I like to handle things on my own. Especially when it comes to my mental health. I never really wanted to be a bother to anyone.

I’m not understanding what’s happening, I don’t understand why I lay in bed at night, crying myself to sleep. I have no idea why I am always tired, not wanting to do anything anymore. Hell, I don’t even want to be around Ethan and Daxton. I feel so much anger towards them, so much jealousy. How can they be so happy, laugh all the time, and have fun, when I’m in bed feeling like death?

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just don’t understand.

-1 year later-

After a full year, Ethan and Dax finally got the nerves to create a YouTube channel. I was happy for them, I really am, but for some reason, I just couldn’t express it.

Dax and Ethan seem to be going on with life just fine. For them, things just kept getting better as the time went on. For me, it was just getting worse.

They didn’t hang out with me much anymore.

“Wanna hang?” I’d text them.

“Sorry, Victoria, I can’t. Maybe another time.” Ethan would reply.

With that, I’d lay in bed and ponder what the hell happened to my life and the twins that were once always there for me.

-2 years later-

At this point, Ethan and Daxton have about 3 million subscribers on YouTube. I’ve always wished Ethan and Dax would thank me, I am the one who told them to do it.

I was laying in bed a year ago, crying. During that time, Dax and Ethan had flown to L.A., for good. They left me behind, they never bothered with a simple “goodbye”, and I haven’t talked to them ever since.

It’s sad really, I was so close to them, never away from each other, but as they grew more popular and got older, I was officially an outcast. They replaced me with better and more famous friends. They were never around anymore; and now, they are never around. They moved across the country from me, and I was left alone.

My dad took me to the doctors a couple of weeks ago, I was diagnosed with depression. I guess that explains all the weird feelings I have been having.

I’ve tried to call the boys, but the minute I hit the call button it went straight to voicemail.

“I’m sorry, but this phone number is no longer in use.”

I missed them so much. The fact that they never even bother to call you or visit, I’d finally come to terms that they are no longer my friends, and that hurt.

The only comfort I had nowadays was the blade sitting on my bedside table.

My father had become a monster; he turned into an abusive alcoholic ever since my mom left.

It hurt to think that the twins don’t even know I come home from school to get beat by my once-loving father and I hated to see their videos and see them looking so happy. I was once that way, but now I’m not. I eventually stopped watching their videos; I just can’t stand their happiness anymore. It’s selfish, but then again, they left me.

They don’t know I sit in a pool of my blood on the bathroom floor while crying, wishing, and praying someone could take me far away. Every day I hold onto a pill bottle full of meds that can kill me in an hour tops, but I always chicken out; always think maybe the twins will come back. That’s the only thing that stops me. Someday I will realize they never will, and that will be the day I drift off into a deep sleep. A sleep where I will never have to deal with my father's beatings, where I won’t have to deal with the fact that the only friends I have made in life have left me; a sleep that will make me forget everything.

-1 year later-

I’ve been visiting Ethan and Dax’s parents lately, they remind me so much of the boys. They are the closest people I have. They are the parents I have wished for.

Derek, Dax and Ethan’s father, found out about the beatings, I had to beg him to not tell anyone. Although my father was an alcoholic bastard, I still loved him. I knew my father was still in there. Maybe one day he’ll change, he’ll be the father that once drove me out to Taco Bell at 2 am; the one who told me-” you're not grounded”, although my mom said I was. He was once the father that loved me more than my mom ever did.

Derek was hesitant, but he finally caved in and promised: he won’t tell a single soul.

Derek and his wife, Caroll, invited me into their home after learning of my struggles. What turned into a couple nights sleeping over, turned into what was once Ethan’s room, my room.

Derek doesn’t know about the cutting, the suicide notes I keep rewriting, trying to make them perfect. Derek also doesn’t know that I am no longer in contact with the twins anymore; he doesn’t know that I have been slowly dying.

“How are Daxton and Ethan? You heard from them?” Derek would ask.

“Yeah, they are doing good. Finally hit 7 million subscribers,” I would reply, hoping I sounded believable.

The twins really did hit 7 million, they were getting more and more famous. I wish I could be there with them. I wish I could surprise them with a cake and tell them how proud I am of them, but that’s not the case anymore; I am no longer in their life.

It hurt to see the rumors of Ethan dating a girl. Social media. Always bugging into people’s lives. I didn’t know if it was true or not, but I found myself watching videos of fangirls trying to prove it, and it does seem like it. Ethan had found a girl, and it hurt to know that I was replaced. It really hurt. I watched proof videos all night, hoping they are all just fake, they aren’t. They aren’t photoshopped, they aren’t played out, they are 100% real; that hurt.

I slammed my laptop shut at 3 in the morning, slipped into my bathroom, and took out the razor blade. That night I got no sleep. By morning, I wanted to just finally take those pills, but Derek ended up calling me down when breakfast was ready, stopping me from turning my thoughts into actions.

3 weeks later Derek found my razor in my bathroom while I was out on a walk. He was just trying to clean my room up-it had gotten messy with the depression. Derek had also promised to not tell anyone, as long as I’d get help.

I didn’t want anyone to know, so, I made an appointment.

The day of the appointment was the worst day ever, it was the day where I had been diagnosed with PTSD and severe depression.

They prescribed me pills and sent them to the nearest pharmacy; I didn’t bother picking them up.

I told Derek I had been doing better, that I was taking the prescriptions every day, and that they were making me better; in reality, I was getting worse. Derek didn’t need to know that.

Caroll ended up finding out that I wasn’t going to therapy or picking up my prescriptions. Derek fought with her, and Caroll became very stern with me. I asked her how she found out, doctors called and said I was not picking up my prescribed pills and skipped appointments.

Caroll told me I could either go to the appointments and take pills, or go back to living with my father. She wasn’t selfish for saying that, she would’ve never let me move back with him. I think she just wanted me to get better and see me happy. I had decided to take the route of taking the prescriptions and going to the appointments.

The first appointment with the therapist went well, but then the second, third, fourth, and so on just weren’t doing anything for me, so I stopped going. I felt like I would be disappointing Caroll, I couldn’t tell her.

My mind had begun to spiral when I got home. I wasn’t in the mindset to be thinking rationally anymore. I was scared to be a disappointment to Derek and Caroll. I missed Ethan and Dax greatly.

I wrote suicide notes over and over again, trying to find the right words to write. Finally, I got the perfect note. It’s simple, and the 5 words say enough.

I’m sorry. Forgive me. Goodbye.

So Long,

Victoria.

I sat down gently on my bed; I wanted to die in a comfortable position. I dumped all the pills onto the silk sheets. They were taunting me, chanting to me to take them. I think my mind was playing tricks at this point.

You can do this Victoria. No one wants you anymore.

I kept telling myself that over and over again.

Finally, the words wrapped around my head and before I knew it, I was shoving pill after pill down my throat, chugging the whiskey you stole from Derek. The whiskey distracted my mind from the thought of dying, not giving me the chance to chicken out.

I didn’t realize that I took the whole bottle, it just went by so fast; I wanted it to go by faster though, so I stumbled my way into the bathroom.

Fuck the comfy position.

I grabbed my razor blade and made a deep vertical cut on my wrist, then the other wrist. Before I knew it, blood is everywhere; I never thought a wrist could bleed this much.

Derek must’ve heard me fall to the ground because I heard someone shout my name outside my room. I pulled myself over to the doorknob of the bathroom to lock it, I was so weak I almost couldn’t do it, but I managed.

“Dad! Where is she?!” I heard a familiar voice shout.

Ethan...

“She was in here...?” I could hear Derek’s voice muffled through the door.

“Dad... pills...” I could hear another familiar voice.

Daxton.

“Victoria?” They all shout at the same time.

I was trying to call out, but my mouth was so dry and I was so weak to even make a noise.

“Bathroom!” I could hear Ethan yell to everyone.

Caroll must be gone. I don’t hear her.

I wanted to see Ethan, I really did, but I also wanted to see death.

Ethan was pounding on the door, yelling for me to open up. I’d never heard him yell this loud before; never heard so much anxiety and concern in his voice.

His screaming and pleads started making my eyes water, and soon tears were flowing freely down my cheeks. Yet, no noise was escaping from my tightening throat.

“Victoria, honey, please. Please, I’m begging you, PLEASE open up!” I could hear Dax choke up through the door.

“Call an ambulance, Dad.” I heard Ethan say, trying to stay calm; I knew he was breaking inside.

Soon the yelling and pleading were becoming muffled; I was drifting off into darkness. The last thing I hear is the door hinges breaking off, then, everything is black.