The Hotline

"Do you think anyone would miss me?" A deep,raspy voice comes on the line, before I even say my name."Do you think anyone would care? If I pull the trigger of this gun, who would miss me?" I am startled by the sound of a gun being loaded. I am about to respond, when suddenly I hear a shot go off.


2. Chapter Two

My brother Tommy committed suicide almost two and a half years ago. Tommy and I were born twins, one boy and one girl. Now it's just me left out of the pair. 
 I can't really say that anyone say his death coming, because in all honesty, no one did. Tommy was an energetic person, captain of the soccer team and had many athletic scholarships lined up. Both Tommy and I were in our last year of prep school, we were always talking about how we couldn't wait to finally be in the real world.  Unfortunately Tommy didn't get to experience that. On November eighth 2010, he ended his life, by hanging himself in his closet with an electrical cord. 
 I finally arrive at the office building, my mother left. Before she passed, my mother was a wedding planner. Now that weddings are no longer being planned, I use this place as an office. 
 I unlock the front door of the building and make my way inside. I quickly switch on the lights of the facility, and then go ahead to take off my jacket. The place is small, but ultimately cozy.

  Like I have told many people, the reason I started this whole thing was not because of my brother. The actual reason behind it all has to do with something that happened in my first year at LSE.

  Back then; I only took classes in the morning, so I could spend time with my younger sister Lexi. I usually got out around, midday. One day, after the end of my last class I decided to go into the lady's room. I am not really sure what made me go into the restroom that day, considering I had never been in there before. Not even using the actual toilet, I spent a good ten minutes in there, aimlessly checking my phone and fixing my hair. 

  After exiting the restroom and school building I began to notice a large group of students standing outside the doors whilst looking up. Curiosity getting the best of me, I look look up. At first I am not sure at what everyone else is looking at, then I see her. A small, blonde girl standing on the ledge of the top floor window looking as if she is ready to jump off. 
 Before I knew what I was doing, I had already dropped my bag and ran back inside the building. Knowing the elevator would take to long, I resorted to taking the stairs all ten flights up. A rush of relief hit me, as I made it to the floor the girl was on and saw she was still on the ledge. 
 Knowing I probably shouldn’t startle someone standing so close to death, I quietly whispered to her making her avert her direction from the concrete below her. 
 I am not really sure where all the things that I said to the girl, came from. Though in the end I got her to step off the ledge. 


  'Can I ask you your name' I whisper to the young-looking girl standing on the window ledge. 

  She looks at me as if I am crazy before answering 'what are you doing up here?' 

  Not responding to her question I begin to sit down beside the window and say 'When my brother did this, my father didn't come out of his room for two weeks. Social services even threatened to take us from him. My sister cried for months. I lost all hope.' 

  'Why are you telling me this?' She asks me. 
 "I just want you to know, how many people you're going to hurt. Do you want anyone you love to feel so much pain; it almost kills him or her? Because that's what's going to happen." 

She gives me a look that reads guilt. Then she steps off the ledge. We talk for about 20 or so minutes before emergency services finally show up. Her family then takes her home, but not before she hands me a note. The note she was going to leave her parents.

Let's just say it wasn't pleasant. 

*End of flashback  

  So that's the reason. After what happened that day, I felt the need to help others through problems, problems that didn't need to end in suicide.

   There is only one desk in the building, along with a clock and a pullout couch. On top of the desk, are a black phone, a journal, a pen, and aspirin lots of aspirin. 

  I usually stay past midnight in this place, sometimes even sleeping on the couch fully dressed. 

  Regularly, people start by crying and I just stay on the line until they are ready to talk. When they are finally calm, they begin to tell me all of their problems, and I write.

  My entries are pretty basic, but they keep me sane. They start with a name, and then go ahead into describing what the person's problem is. After the caller finishes, I stay silent for a moment, knowing that the caller needs a second to think over, what they have said. 
 Then I begin to talk to them. Soothing them, and telling them how much they need to do later in life. In the end, all the suicidal thoughts are gone. Vanished from the minds of the caller.

  So considering all of this, me being so accustomed to the routine, maybe that's why the next call startles me. 

  I do not even have time to say my name before a, deep, raspy voice, comes on the line.

"Do you think anyone would miss me? Do you think anyone would care?" 

Suddenly the sound of a gun being loaded startles. Though, I don't have time to respond, before I hear a gun shot go off. 


Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...