A Year Without Johnny

Harry Mitchell is a young boy whos best friend commited suicide. Since the event, even more terrible situations have come to pass and Harry is left making heart wrenching decisions. This is his letter that lets you into his life, his thoughts and feelings, as he lives a year without Johnny.


2. One month without Johnny

Fireworks exploded but I could barely hear them over my own thoughts. Every whimper I made was twice as loud as they could ever be, as pain strode through my body in a hurricane of emotions. Camera flashes displayed such a pretty image beneath my tears.

The people should have been counting down the New Year with the rest of the world but they had no time for celebrating. They were working.

I was standing so close to the edge, casting my eyes hundreds of feet downwards to where they were stood. They looked cold, but I feel that the night breeze had hit no one as hard as me. My head pounding hard as the velvet night moved ever so slowly.

I lifted my arms up carefully. I do not know why. I took a breath. I do not know why. I jumped and I will never know why.

London was screaming at a deafening tone as the entire city stood to a hold.

That was when I woke up. My eyes topped with water and my cheeks red. My moist palm pressed against my forehead as I tried my best to repress the memory once more. It never seemed to work. The unfamiliarity of this bed was becoming something I loathed as it seemed to always convey me back to that nightmare.

I gazed over to the calendar hung on the far wall. Crosses filled every date of the month yet yesterday, unlike every other last day of the month, I hadn’t turned the page. I didn’t want to believe that it was the first day of February. I didn’t want to believe that it had been a month since Johnny had jumped, though, as I think about it now, it may also have been because I knew already half my time there was up. Returning home seemed like too much of a burden and I had grown quite fond of the view of Paris.

Most people would have seen home as a good thing after such a long period of time away but, as you know, I had not been home since the incident. I just couldn’t find the courage to face anybody that would remind me of Johnny or the fact that he had jumped. Not until I had got my head round it myself, though, I doubted I ever would. I just couldn’t comprehend why he did it.

Nevertheless, I vowed to spend the rest of my days there usefully. I hadn’t yet shown my true touristic side and set about putting that right. After all, next month I would inevitably have to return home and face my demons.

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