"words" = character talking
words = character thinking
(words) = author note
TW!!! mentions of self harm, abuse, suicide, and drug use.
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I woke up. Shit. It didn't work. I woke up on the floor after my second suicide attempt didn't work. I rolled over onto my side and looked at my dresser, my suicide note barely hanging on. I finally sat up straight and stood up. I walked to the dresser, my feet barely carrying my body, and grabbed the note, reading over the words again. I'm sorry mom and dad, I didn't want it to end up this way... whatever. I don't want to read this stupid shit anymore. I crumble up the note hoping it would crumble up my feelings with it. I threw it in my trash can and looked at the clock on my nightstand. 2:46. 6 is my lucky number, but its not lucky I'm still here. I sat on the edge of my bed and looked at myself in my mirror. Noticing all of my imperfections. My stupid fucking bushy eyebrows, the way my nose arched the wrong way, my short eyelashes and droopy eyes, my ugly dry lips. Why didn't it work? I wish I could go back in time and take more pills. Then I looked to my right and seen the uneven paint on my wall that I painted. Why does everything I do have to be wrong? I can't do anything without something going wrong, and it my fault for it. I lay my head on my pillow still in my jeans and close my eyes hoping to magically die, instead i just ended up falling asleep in seconds.
