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Mr. Danya
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He could barely hear the others over the horrible storm of his screaming thoughts and the rapid gasps for air between the sobs. If he wasn’t so self-conscious of how horribly humiliating this all was, he might have even forgotten they were there.

Why? He just came up here to end it all, so why did he have to keep pretending? How was he supposed to do that? What was he supposed to say to Jordan and Hazel now? Even now, in his final moments, he still had to make himself look like a complete spaz loser.

His head was swimming in circles, his legs growing weak, breath leaving him, as if he was drowning in his own tears. Just as he was about to black out from it all, he felt Hazel’s hands grasp his, her head pressing against his own. Suddenly, he was anchored.

His breathing started to steady, if still rapid and shallow. He stopped trying to word empty apologies, even if he was thinking them over and over and over. He needed Hazel so much right now, someone to tether him away from the all-consuming that he was trying to dive into. He needed someone to stop him.

“I just, I just-“ he whimpered, pressing back into Hazel’s head with his own as if it would make any difference. He had to confess.

“I just wanted to die and get it over with!”
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Where Will You Stand When the Flood Comes? · The Connecting Bridge