You're laying in bed. You know exactly what you want. You want to walk 15 feet to where your dad keeps his hand gun and you want to paint the walls red with your brains. You want nothing more. You want to write out a note apologizing for the pain and anger to caused your family. For how how much you burdened all of them. You want to apologize for the lies. For not asking for help when you knew you needed it. You want to grab the blade that is within arms reach of your bed and just slice every body part you have. You want to give up. Raise the white flag. Because death is so much better than this life you're living. Life is terrible and you want the pain to end. Your mom hates you. Your dad thinks you're a screw up. Your sisters never met the real you. Your little brother was too young to notice anything and your older brother was never there. You're literally alone at the moment. You're laying bed with music playing loud wishing you could close your eyes and have it be the last. You want to not wake up. Forget the "better tomorrow." I've waited for too long. It hasn't happened yet. So obviously it's not going to happen. Part of you wants to believe things get better, but the majority of you believes the truth. This is you. You will likely be like this until you move away from this place. You know things can get better, just not here. Not with theses people. Not with this torment. Not with these never ending voices in your head screaming at you telling you that you're worthless. Telling you the truth. That your family would be better off without you. That the only people that would miss you are the people who actually tried to help. And you can count all of them on one hand. You don't know what to believe anymore. You say that God has a better plan for you, but it's getting harder and harder to believe that. You just don't want to believe anything other than that your brains splattered on the wall will still be red. But You think that You might have to test that theory...
