Deeper

!TW!: suicide, mentions of abuse, blades.

I stare down at the shiny, metal blade that i am holding between my fingers. Its ever-so-slightly dull surface staring at me, daring me to do it. Daring me to press it to my skin. To my wrists. Daring me to make blood drip from the wound, slowly... Painfully... Blissfully.

As i stare at the sharp object, i let my mind wander.

How did i get here? How did i end up in this state? How do this happen?

Except, i know exactly how this happened. I know exactly how horrible people were. I know exactly how scared I was to do anything. I know how exactly how anxious I was when i came home, wondering if it would happen again. If she would hit me again. If she would yell at me again.

I don't know what i did to deserve this. All I know is that im glad that it is going to all be over soon.

All of the hate. All of the pain. All of the tears. Gone. All of the memories of how people used to stare at me in the corridors and how awkward it felt. All of the memories of the whispers i heard as i sat in class. All of the memories of the snarky, hatefilled comments i got as i sat at lunch. It will all be gone.

I wont have to worry about never going into public bathrooms, i wont have to worry about coming home to a parent that doesn't even want me, I wont have to worry about the fear i have when i go out in public.

Drip. Drip. Drip. The sink tap starts to drip, pulling me out of my thoughts and back to reality.

Back to this cold, wet, dark bathroom. Its slimy, cream colored walls, its dirty, stained floors, its sun damaged curtains. And the blades. I stare down at them once again.

I didn't even write a letter. Why would i? My mom didn't care when i was alive, so why would she care now? Why would she care when i was gone? Im sure she'll be happier now. She wont have this massive disappointment holding her back. She wont have to strain her voice to let me know that she is talking about me to her friends. She wont have to hurt her back to bend down and grab something to throw at me. She wont have to hurt her throat to scream at me. Not anymore.

And my classmates. They wont have to worry about making me cry beacuse of the dress i was wearing. They wont have to worry about making me feel embarrassed because of the necklace i was wearing. They wont have to worry about where i will hide when they make fun of the color i painted my nails. Not anymore.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Im pulled from my mind again by the echoing sound of the tap. Drip. Drip. Drip. I put the blade down next to me and stand up, climbing out of the bathtub. I walk over to the tap and shut it. Finally, silence.

I strole back over to the bath, and sit down once more.

'Dont delay it any longer. The world will be better off without you. Nobody needs you anymore. Do it.' I hear my thoughts yelling at me.

My eyes glance at the sharp, shiny object, and my fingers move on their own. All i can hear is the blood rushing to my ears as i pick the blade up, slowly and carefully, bringing it toward me.

I wince as it grazes my skin. The initial shock of pain almost snaps me out of my trance. Almost.

I press the balde into my flesh. Deeper, deeper, deeper, until the blood comes oozing out of the cut.

I turn to the other side and draw a line across the soft skin, depepr, deeper, deeper.

My breath quickens and becomes increasingly more shallow as my vision starts to blur.

I look at the walls surrounding me. And a smile graces my lips.

"Its finally over" i whisper to myself.

"Finally."

My vision starts to turn black as i lose sensation in my fingers... Arms... Feet... Legs.

And then its all gone.

All of this because i was born in the wrong body. All of this pain and suffering because people like me are seen as monsters or are seen to be crazy. All because i want to be my authentic self.

This is only half of what trans people in America face. We are losing people because of hate and distrust. We need to rebuild our society on peace and acceptance to stop more stories like this from happening.

Protect trans people.
Protect trans lives.