Suicide.

Chapter 2

Chapter 2
The Very Edge

The daisy's in my hair, I walk as if I have no despair haunting my mind like pesticides. The stranger passed by. I remember the day I chugged mom's birth control pills in hopes of falling ill and perishing, I remember the day I tried to reach the bottom of the public pool down the street and drown. I shake my head slightly to drain the thoughts away. I keep walking, happy that my life will come to an end. I see the bridge of classical style, bricks of tinted white and cyan-blue lining. The knots in my muscles ease. This was it, Tower Bridge. The pavement lingers beneath my filthy sneakers. The sun's encased to the sky perfectly, it scorches my skin warmly, I could feel it making my black hair shimmer. I looked down at myself and I began to list all my ugly imperfections. My thighs were too big, my hips too wide, my breasts too large, my arms too masculine, my jawline too soft. I was the opposite of gorgeous, I was the opposite of happy, generous, loved. I wonder what it's liked to be loved, to be treated like you're not rat shit.

I stop for a moment and look out at the lake, the sun reflected perfectly on the pristine waters, creating a glow so remarkable. I shook my head rapidly and reminded myself what I was there for, I adjusted my black leather jacket nervously. I begin to climb. My feet brush against the blue railing. I take a deep breathe, my mouth and nose harnessing the soft breeze that whispers through my hair. I stand on the railing. I feel small among the large bridge.

I stand on the very edge and I prepare to jump, to lose the mucked up life I was stuck with for 17 years. The memories course through my head like a marathon. The belt, the kettle, catching mom unscrewing the screws on my cabinet so it could one day fall on me, beading bracelets with Wyatt while mom and dad were with a marriage counselor, drawing stars around my scars. I remember it all. Would I remember it after death? I took a leap off the bridge.