I get home and I put down my supplies. I pick up the house phone and call a number. When a kind-voiced woman answers the phone I say:
"Please come for him." My voice breaks,"I can't handle it anymore." I give my little baby one final kiss on the cheek and walk outside to the thorny garden, bringing my supplies with me. I see a scrappy, broken tree. Perfect. I tied the rope I bought from the supplies store to the tree. I placed the wooden stool, also from the supplies store, just below the rope. Standing on the stool, I wrap the rope around my neck. My final words are:
"Sorry mum. Sorry dad. Sorry Shayana. Sorry Rochelle. And most of all, I am sorry Little Marcus." Tears start to blur my vision. I kick the stool away from beneath my feet and tie the rope so tightly around my neck, that I begin to suffocate. Eventually I stop breathing. I hope that everyone will live on without me. I hope that I will not be forgotten. And I hope that I will forever be in peoples' hearts.
The end. Thanks for reading and don't forget to comment what you thought.
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Little Rebel
Teen FictionThis story is about a girl named Rachael Crosby who is 15 years old. She turns into a very unruly teenager and frequently disobeys the rules of her parents and everyone else around her. But will her rowdy ways lead her onto the wrong path?
