Friends (part 1)

Did I ever tell you I once had to talk a friend out of suicide? I was either a sophomore or junior in high school, so either 15 or 16 years old. My circle of close friends at the time consisted of myself, another guy (J), and a girl (M). Before you can ask, it was never a matter of attraction between any of us. It was just a serendipity of three teenagers who enjoyed each other's company and happened to live in the same neighborhood. We were the kind of kids who did well in school without really trying, and we made each other laugh. We bonded over Shakespeare, of all things - we were all in the same sophomore English class, and we read Julius Caesar aloud. I read the part of Cassius, J was Brutus, and M was Marc Antony. And sure, it's possible that we were all sort of on the fringes of the rest of the high school crowd, even if we didn't all realize it. I can't speak for them, but I sure didn't, at least not fully. It was an awkward age. That's all I'm trying to say, and the three of us were as close as I can imagine platonic teenagers being. We had conversations that were at once absurd and deep, and oh, how we laughed together. J and I knew that M had a history of depression. We rarely saw that side of her, but it wasn't a complete surprise when I got the call. It was around 2-3 a.m. on a weeknight, and I was awakened by my dad in my bedroom door, saying I had a phone call. Actually, my parents were amazingly cool about the whole thing. They didn't make a big deal about a call at such an hour, never demanded to know what was going on. Dad just let me know I had a call, then went back to bed when he was sure I was getting up. I'm sure my mom and I talked about it at some point, but it was conversation, not inquisition. I suppose the reason Dad wasn't put out by the late call is because it was readily apparent that something was, indeed, wrong. M was sobbing when I picked up the phone, more vociferously than anyone I've heard before or since. I couldn't understand a word she was saying at first; only knew it was her by the sound of her voice. It was several minutes before I made out the words "kill myself" and finally began to figure out exactly what I was dealing with. And with the way she sounded, the utter despair and hysteria in her voice, I knew immediately that this was not a mere plea for attention. I knew my friend was on the brink of doing something desperate. (To be continued) *Names have been redacted and initials changed.