The night before her suicide! |
She sits on her room and crying, wondering why. Why can’t she be normal?
Why she has to be sick and lost in life?
The diary lies on the table in front of her and she picks up her pencil and start to write. Her tears flow faster then before and she start to thinking of suicide. She closes her eyes and dreamed herself away to that wonderful place she has created in her mind. Now she can feel the blood taste in her mouth but she can not feel pain in her lips. She stands up and walks against the mirror, the mirror that had been blurred for so long time now. She dries her tears and look in her eyes, but when she sees herself she starts to cry again and now the tears won’t stop. She spits on that girl in the mirror and see won’t quit doing it. She starts to hit, kick and scream to that girl she sees. “Why can’t you be normal?”
She hits, kicks and screams until she’s lying on the flour, feel that she can’t move anymore. Her eyes look up in the roof and now she knows, no one understands how she feel and then it’s no meaning for her to stay any longer.
They told her to be strong and keep on fighting but now she’s had enough. She don’t want this anymore, she can’t handle it. Everyone she have met and give trust have hurt her and let her down. She knows she’s not perfect but is she really worth this shit, to be slapped in her back everyday. Her only wish is the only thing she never can get, to be free from this pain, to be free from her sickness and laugh for real again. When she realise that it’s never going to be any better, she just keep on living because they told her to. Her family told her to not give up.
Her thoughts make her going crazy and suicide started to feel more and more right. Suicide started to sees like the only way out. She’s not afraid of death but something holding her back. Something makes her not doing it.
If she’s not going to make it so mush longer, would anyone miss her?
What if no one dose? What if no one even going to remember who she was?
That’s what she’s afraid of, not of death or the pain. What if she’s going to see her family and see that they don’t care, that they don’t cry for her sad ending?
She standing up again, takes her cigarettes and her mp3 and walk out her door. She walking done the stairs, avoids to look on her parents and walk out the outer door. She walks over the lawn and sits down beside his grave.
She laid her hand on his gravestone and say;
“Soon I’ll be whit you again babe, soon you can lie down in my knee again and keep me from crying and protect me from getting hurt!”
Her hands starts to shake and she have to light a cigarette. Her eyes stings because the tears won’t stop falling. She starts to rock her bode back and forward, her tears keep on falling and she give his grave a kiss and stands up again. She’s walking against the shed and starts to hit. To hit is the only thing she can do to feel little less pain. When her knuckles are all crush and the blood flow down her fingers she sits down on the ground and dry her tears. She dries her knuckles against her pants, but like always she doesn’t feel the physical pain. She closes her eyes and dreamed her self back in time, she really tries to remember who that little girl is.
That girl who’s smiles and laughs, that little girl who’s crying because she sees little blood on her knees. She really tries to remember who she was when she was that little girl. All she knows is what her father has told her, he say that she was a happy little girl, that she always helps outer people. She always dries they outer children’s tears instead of taking care of her self. She was never shay, never afraid too meet new people and she was never afraid for new situations. She always could talk in front of anyone. She lived in a dream, her own beautiful dream.
But the years gone by and she’s started to be more and more depressed and angrier. She started to freeze people out, people that loved her.
She started to write suicide letters to her self. She has five old diaries, all she can read in them is words like,
“Hate my self so fucking bad! Freak, monster, retarded idiot, suicide, please kill me, don’t want to live like this!”
It’s not even one happy word in any of her diary and she doesn’t get it, how can people be that blinded? How can people just past the fact that’s she really doesn’t feel good. How could they walk right beside her for so many years and not see it? How could they past the reality for so long?
For four years they walking by her side and pretend that they don’t see how she really felt. The laugh at her behind her back, they point on her and whisper bad words about her.
She started to swallow the pain, the anger and her tears. She decide to never let anyone in, she decide to never let anyone knows how she feel inside.
She’s so tired of the people who have hurt her, when she’s always had been a great friend and always kept there’s secrets. She has always standing up for them, when they don’t have any more words to say. She has always protected them when they get in trouble. But all she ever got back was a slap in hear face and an even more brooked heart.
The wall she’s build getting bigger and it won’t stop growing until the day that even dynamite isn’t going to blow it away.
She opened her eyes again and sees the ground again, she sits behind the shed and her tears still flow done her cheek. She docent wants to cry anymore now so she stands up and started to walk against the house again. She opens the door and walks inside again, up against the stairs and in to her room again. She lies down on her bead and put on the stereo. She lets the disc go from the beginning and her tears flow down her check. She has decided her mind now, she’s going to do it. She looks on the picture of her family who’s hanging on her wall. She cries because she knows that this is the only way out. It’s the only way for her to be free from pain and the emptiness she feel inside. She takes her pencil and wrights for the last time in her life, in this life.
“I’m so sorry for all the pain I’ve cost you, I’m so sorry for everything I’ve put you thought. But now I can’t take this anymore. I can’t keep on fighting because I’m not seeing any meaning to stay down here. Don’t worry about me, because I’m going to be whit my angel again. He’s going to take care of me, just like he did before. I let him down and leave him to die, but now I need him, I need to feel he’s vicinity. I really love you and I’ve always had and I always will. I’m so sorry, but this is the night for my suicide!”
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