i need to preface this by saying it was the third or fourth time i was in this situation. they were all calls for the same friend, for the same reason (to save them from killing themselves). we'd been friends for nearly two years at this point, and i could feel myself becoming tired with it. tired of calling 911 for them. they were across the country, and i was probably 15 at the time? the first and second times i did it were because i really, really didn't want them to die. i still thought they were going to get better. the last time i did it because i had to. i dont even think i wanted to at that point, i just couldnt let all my work go to waste. i was tired. it was really late. i didnt want to be the one doing this. i HATED being responsible for them. i wanted to ask someone else to do it. why did i have to, anyways? im not a fucking adult. they werent MY kid. but i had to. i just had to. i always had to pick up their mess whether i wanted to or not. it made me miserable. i was miserable. i cant remember what they were trying to do this time. maybe drown themselves. there had been drugging and stabbing before. this had to have been the one with the drowning.