Should I Kill Myself - Yes or No?
“My sighs won’t penetrate these walls.” Jenna’s mind dwells on that thought. Finding a familiar face, her interest slowly emerges. She reads aloud: “My favorite part of the day is being home after work with my kids.” Jenna grins as she scans the group photo. Jenna taps her front teeth with her pencil’s eraser. Her mind rolls over again, “Facebook isn’t helping you with your homework. Jenna, Facebook isn’t helping-” Returning to the top of the screen, she pauses, staring at the questioning comment box – What’s on your mind?
Her finger’s move across the keyboard, “Should I Kill Myself – Yes or No?” She clicks Post, then exits from Facebook. “This should be interesting . . . or terrible,” Jenna speculates for her kitten, Fiona. Fiona purrs and curls herself into a pint sized ball on the heavy rug flattened near Jenna’s desk. “Not a care in the world, kitty? Must be perfect, my little purr-ball.” Fiona’s paw presses into the rugs worn-down fabric décor. Jenna watches as the kitten’s paw slowly draws itself back into a motionless pose.
Jenna finds where she’d left off from the assignment sheet. She spends the next two hours reading and re-reading problems and bookmarks, until her phone disrupts all focus. Her body jumps. “Hello?” A soft voice is recognized on the other end. “You have a correct phone number on Facebook,” Melanie Pruitt laughs. “Seriously, what is with that question?” Melanie whines, “Please tell me-” Jenna cuts her off with ambitious decline, “It’s not a serious inquiry.”
Silence penetrates Jenna’s reactive skills. She continues to speak, more eloquently this time. “Listen, you know I am still having a hard time over Shay. Right now, I am in the middle of studying for an important test. It took something drastic, I suppose, to let myself pay attention to it instead of how I feel inside.”
Melanie sighs very slowly until she sounds relieved, then she responds, “Oh, so you are basically venting. Well, that’s what Facebook seems to be for. I’m sorry to bother you, especially while you were finally focused, eh? Hey, just so you know, I’m not the only person out there who’s worried about you. I’m just the one who took the initiative.” Jenna’s voice raises unintentionally, “Wow, that just shook me up a little. Thank you. My, hero.” Jenna laughs. Awkwardly, they hang up and Jenna turns her eyes back to where she’d left off, whispering, “Cool it, this isn’t about you. What’s on your mind, Facebook?”
Jenna opens her Facebook account, staring once again at the lingering question at the top of her feed. She quickly types, “Thanks for the support in my agenda’s guys. It’s been a lot of work, with the studying and my job.”
She pauses, lifting her head up in growing suspicion. “Four hundred unread messages? What, did they think I -” Jenna sat straight up in her wobbly desk chair, focusing her reaction on the likeliness that people may have wondered if she actually did the unspeakable.
Her finger taps Enter on the keyboard with such a light touch, she wasn’t sure if it worked. Her post is now exposed for the world of her Facebook to read. Her eyes adjust, scanning the words, again and again. With a deep breath, she presses her notification icon. Comment after comment about the post, most from people she wasn’t sure she’d even ever heard of. Jenna takes courage in curiosity, scrolling down the list to a name she’d recognize.
Her voice was sudden and hushed, “There!” Her expression of an anxious woman, catching a glimpse of herself in the darker places of the monitor.
She read on and on with an array of emotions that seemed to penetrate her through the screen; displaying her life as one of a monster, then as a troubled child, then an invisible corpse. How reluctant were many to gather any compassion for sharing, neither the memes a tactful description.
Finally, a new notification popped up. “Without a doubt, you will be able to do it. You have been so motivated for ‘The Cause’. Love you, Jenna.”
Jenna knew how Melanie has always been the one who would find the best in people, though the world would cast a net. “Thank you God for people like that in my life,”Jenna prays, feeling a tear drop roll, cooling her cheek as it went.
Fiona jumps into her lap, causing Jenna to flinch and laugh out loud. “Okay, Jenna, she stared into the eyes of her reflection, it’s time to see just what you’re made of.” She scratches Fiona’s ears, full of fluff and watches the kitten try to bite her fingers. Barely a minute of time passes before Fiona gives in to the pampering.
“You might be my best friend now, Fiona. Glad I can make you happy, love.”