Shaking and palpitating on the floor, hoping there is a sign that there is hope, and looking for anything to end your life with. At this point, you feel as if you are not able to go on any longer. Your mind has gotten to you and you decide to surrender. You grab the nearest pill bottle and take the entire bottle.

And just like that, your life is over in a second.

You no longer have any second chances or do-overs. You no longer get to experience the laughter from your baby cousin or a hug from your mother. You will not be seeing your friends for lunch and packing up your backpack to go to school. In a second, everything you knew disappeared. You no longer breath the same air as those who found you lying there on your floor.

You are found by your roommate. They fall down to the ground to check your pulse, but it’s too late. There’s no longer a heartbeat. You have turned cold. They call 911 and scream your name to wake up. They attempt to shake you in hopes you’ll give them a sign, but you’re already gone. 911 shows up and picks up your body as you lay limp. They attempt to resuscitate you but it’s too late. They can’t see a heartbeat on their monitor and even they know it’s a lost cause. But they don’t give up.

They take you to the emergency room and call your emergency contacts. Your mother is who they call first. Your mother receives a call from the hospital that her child is in critical condition. The best job she has is destroyed: being your mother.

Her pride and joy is now laying limp on the hospital bed as doctors and nurses surround you. Your father races into the room and sees the dread on your mother's face. He already knows what happened but he can’t believe it. He screams your name but it’s no use. The pills have gotten into your bloodstream and it’s too late. Your parents cry into each other's shoulders as they wonder to themselves what they could’ve done differently in order to have kept you safe.

They blame themselves for not being more attentive or getting you the help they didn’t know you needed.

Next, your best friend runs into the room. A twenty-year-old sees her best friend, her go-to, her lifeline, lying dead on the table with people poking and prodding her. They had just gotten off the phone three hours before. She wonders what could’ve gone wrong during those hours and she blames herself for not foreseeing this as she was the last person you talked to.

But you don’t see this because you will never see these people again. You will never get to have a deep talk or make a stupid joke with anyone because you decided to take your own life. Your whole school has a ceremony for your death and they put up ribbons and name a courtyard after you. You will be “remembered,” but at what cost?

You have hurt more people than you could count and all because of one decision that those closest to you questions for the rest of their lives. The guilt and despair they experience don’t go away. Your brother is now without a sibling. Without his first best friend. Without his partner in crime. He’s now struggling to be strong for your parents as he fights his own inner demons and trauma as you lie cold in your casket.

Your funeral comes and you’re dressed in black while people come up and touch your lifeless body. People are crying over you that you didn’t even know existed. It’s astounding how someone so lively can now lay lifeless on their death bed. No one foresaw this coming, yet everyone questions what they could’ve done differently.

But you made the decision on your own and there’s nothing they could’ve ever done to save you because you didn’t want to save yourself. You didn't know there were any other options for things to get better.

You gave up during the rainstorm before the rainbow came.

Was it worth it?

If you or anyone you know is considering or contemplating suicide, please don't hesitate to call the Suicide Hotline:

Call 1-800-273-8255

It's available 24 hours a day, every day. It's one phone call that can save your life or someone else's.