If life is like a roller coaster, why is going downhill the best part? Life is a cruel reality. While other look at life full of hope I just see death; the inevitable outcome to our life. Will it really matter if I go early anyway? I, Mason, see the world as just a way to make us feel like we are important when in the end it doesn't matter to anyone. We hide the ugly truth of death with the beautiful lie of life. Brighton isn't a bad place. My friend Ismael keeps me company when I'm down. He's the reason I haven't left this cruel world. He helps me go through my depression, and just because I have depression doesn't mean I'm always sad. It just these suicidal thoughts never go away. Life has been treating me well lately until that day that I thought it was not worth it anymore. The worst day in my life that drove me to do the worst thing in my life.
It was another boring Thursday, nothing new just the same old same old. Ismael was walking with me to our street where we lived. It was a simple two story house. Once I got home my parents weren't home, as usual. I went to my room and started my computer for a game of Counter-Strike. I was about to start when I hear a knocking at my door. I go back downstairs and open the door. It's the police. They told me my parents had died in a car accident involving a bus. I was in shock. My heart sunk with a force I couldn't describe. It felt as if someone cut me with a heated blade and twisted the blade in my heart. I didn't cry. I didn't say anything at all, I just thought of if it was even worth living anymore. I just closed the door and went to my room. I just laid there rethinking my life. I couldn't handle it anymore. I just wanted to leave this world. I went to my computer and called Ismael on Skype. I tried to get everything off of my mind. At the end of the call I told him that if he could come over tomorrow.
Ismael was a relaxed person. He was always there for me since we were kids. I told him   what happened and how I'm questioning if any of this was real. Why would someone who never did anything wrong get such horrible fate? Other than Ismael, I was all alone. I didn't know what to do. I told Ismael that I'll see him later and went back to my room. I tried to contact some of my friends to see if we could go to the pier to get things off of my mind. They all agreed and we went walk around for a while. The pier had a smooth breeze that tickled my skin, soothing me as is lifted my thoughts into the sky. They were all supportive of all that had happened these past few days. Telling me that they would be there for me. I don't get it. Why do people say they're there for you when they really never are? Is it just for empathy?  I stayed for a bit just trying to relax and have a bit of fun with my friends. I told them that I was goodbye and sorry for what I've done. I left to my house for the end of the day.
I was just there staring at my ceiling. Just contemplating life. I grabbed and chair and tied the noose into the ceiling I couldn't handle it anymore. Life had treated me as if I was just a piece of garbage that no one ever took out, left out to rot and without a purpose in this world. I heard knocking at the door, but I ignored it. I was going to do this. I kept asking myself, "Is there any meaning in life? I got up on the chair, tied the noose around my neck, ready to die and end it all. As I kicked the chair I heard the front door open with a loud bang. The police and Ismael bolted into the room grabbing me by my legs as they cut the rope. The police asked why I was doing this. I couldn't say anything; I lost my train of though and just spaced.
Ismael was there to tell me why I had a life ahead of me. That life had a deeper meaning; that sometimes life treats us like crap, but it will always get better. That killing myself was not worth it. He said that just because I didn't see how much I've helped him doesn't mean I haven't. He showed me how much I've impacted people. We may not see it but we help people in our lives directly and indirectly.