Plan A got shoved down the toilet, but that's okay, because I have Plan B, C, D and so on. Either way I'm gone and there's nothing anyone can ever do about it. Ever.
Its four am, and I've been awake all night because of stupid insomnia. I'll be lucky if I get a few minutes of sleep, let alone hours. If anyone could see in my mind, they'd want to die too. Nobody would want to live the Hell I live.
To pass time I do stomach crunches, push ups and sit ups. I burn about five hundred calories.
Its five am, and I'm still awake. I flick through a book, an atlas, and poems and finally find something I've been looking for a while: my favorite poem.
Its by Daniel Arios, an Italian poet who wrote it a hundred years ago. The poem consists of only ten words, but ten words is enough to sum up my entire life.
I
Am
Living
In
A
Hell
In
My
Own
Mind.
It's so true its strange. They say Daniel had some sort of mental sickness that persuaded him to write it, as back then depression was looked down upon, and I guess not many people know about it. But I think differently. I think he was like me.
In an old interview in an old Gazette newspaper, Daniel talks about his insomnia and how it sucks to be an insomniac, and how he is so hurt inside.
They put him in an insane asylum three days later.
Six am, and believe it or not, I'm still awake. I put away my books and boot up my laptop. I log into Pinterest, my new obsession. I flick through beautiful, skinny models, with perfect hipbones and chiseled cheeks.Thats what I want to be like. I want to have a 0cm waistline, weigh 0 stone, be six feet tall, and look beautiful. The first three I can manage, but I guess makeup will have to cover up the fact that I'm never going to be gorgeous, no matter what Fabian or Christian say.
Seven am, and its time to get ready for school. I swallow three pills, apply enough makeup to look like Tulisa (I mean, why did she even need plastic surgery?), and pull on tights, skater skirt and baggy jumper. I can't show off my fatness.
Eight am, and in downstairs, robotically pouring about ten rice krispies and milk in a bowl.
Eight thirty am, I place my bowl on the side, shout bye up the stairs, and head outside.
Fabian waits in his truck with Alik. I scoot in next to Alik, shivering. Knew I shoulda got my coat. Too late.
"Back seat," Fabian says automatically, and Alik reaches over to get a blanket for me.
He carefully wraps it around my shoulders, and I smile gratefully. Some guys can be so nice, whereas others...fuck the others. I guess I've forgiven him now.
"Road trip?" Fabian grins like a madman, and drives off in the opposite direction of the school.
I'm too tired to argue, so I end up drifting off on Alik's shoulder.
Three hours later I wake up, and we've arrived at some sort of beach. The sand is pale pink, and the water is foamy aquamarine. And the sky...the sky is a rainbow of azure turquoises, violets, light oranges...its beautiful. I've never seen anything like it.
"What are we doing here?" I mumble groggily, slipping the blanket off my shoulders and shoving it in the back seat.
"Picnic." Fabian says like it should have been obvious.
This isn't going to help me. The waves, the water, will just make me think of drowning. The pier, the height, will just make me think of jumping. The sand, the pink hues, will make me think of burying myself alive. But maybe that's a good thing. Maybe I need to think more about Plan B, tweak a few details. Do I jump, cut, swallow, drown, hang? There's so many options, but so little time.
"Sandwich, Autumn?" Fabian is holding out a ham, cucumber and mayonaisse sandwich. 610 calories.
"Sure!" I say a little over enthusiastically, and reach forward and take it from his hand, holding it with the edge of my fingers like it might contaminate me.
Tentatively I take a bite, almost retching. I manage to finish the while thing without being sick. I gulp down some orange juice - 28 calories- and say I need to go to the bathroom and head off down the beach to the tranquil little café at the end.
In the bathroom I vomit up the sandwich and orange juice. I don't want to look fat in my funeral casket.
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YOU ARE READING
Autumn • Complete
RomanceShort Story Since the day she almost killed herself, Autumn has been distant from family and friends. Instead of carrying on with school, she goes to live with her father in the remote and rural Welsh countryside, where being lonely is what she nee...
