Leone Frasier was living the aftermath of a tragic car crash that took his mother's life and left him barely able to walk on his feeble legs. He has had to endure the loss of his mother, the wrath of an abusive father, and all the added weight that...
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Today I've finally decided to kill myself.
It's always been a thought in my mind, but I'd relinquish the idea whenever it would come up. My longing to just simply fade into nothingness always coalesced with the wavering thoughts that maybe I was just being crazy, dramatic, or ungrateful for my life, even.
I've heard several opinions on suicide. The most notable ones always came from those who couldn't really relate, as well as those who were simply too busy to be inconvenienced by such a thing.
When describing people with such thoughts, I often hear the word selfish being used. No one seems to be able to fathom how someone would just willingly miss out on their future, their loved ones, and what they have to offer.
What word would you use for someone like me who doesn't have any of those things?
The word can't be selfish because even if I had those things to begin with, wouldn't it also be selfish to say one's own desire to keep me around outweighs my misery?
Maybe the word for me could simply just be determined, because for once, I'm finally determined to take control of my life. A life that felt utterly meaningless. Happiness and peace seemed like elusive dreams, always just out of reach. There was nothing but unbridled cruelty that enveloped my existence. Each day felt like a relentless struggle. Shadows of darkness clouded every glimmer of hope, sorrow weighed down on my heart, and the once vibrant colors of life had faded into bleak shades of gray, and the world around me seemed to echo my desolation. I always hoped to gain the ability to simply numb myself-to distance myself from feeling any sort of emotion, but it was impossible. In the depths of my anguish, I couldn't help but feel. I felt all the pain, sadness, and hopelessness. It had become unbearable, and the darkness had consumed every inch of my being. I found myself at a crossroads, where the only escape that seemed feasible was to simply end it all.
The decision wasn't so tainted by obscurity when I was watching my favorite television show earlier, but now it's much clearer. My father had just gotten home from his trip to the bar, stumbling through the front door at his usually drunken state as he slurred out words that were made easy to decipher due to it's contents already being embedded in my mind for all these years.
He was going on about how much he missed his wife and how much I was at fault for her loss and how it should've been me that got lost to the crash. His words were paired with the usual kicks, jabs, uppercuts and smacks made all over my face and body. All of it was enough to leave scars, bruising and dark crimson splotches on my tender skin.
I've found that the tactic of curling up in a fetal position and closing my eyes to the faint memory of how my life used to be, slightly eased the pain.
