Savior ↠ Nash G.

SADNESS KILLS THEM.

I closed the journal for the last time, and kept crying my eyes out. How did I go from that little five year old girl, always happy and always laughing, to... this? I picked at some of my cuts that were still recovering, and I eventually started to bleed. I found a picture of myself that I thought was the only lovely picture of myself and I stapled it onto the cover. I think it was a picture I took of myself for #SelfieForNash. He noticed me that time making it the third time he has noticed me.

I pulled out a post-it and wrote, "Erin, please make sure he reads this" I knew she would know who "he" is so I slipped on slippers and walked out into the hallway. I knew they were all still downstairs singing christmas carols or dancing to the music they were blasting so I didn't bother to cover up. I tip toed towards Erin's room with my journal.

I inserted the key in the key hole to her drawer, and opened the long drawer placing the journal in the drawer. I locked her drawer with the spare key she gave me, and I smiled content with where I placed it. I turned around my hair slapping me in the face as I turned around, and as a reflex I cleared my face of my hair, and I saw Eric staring at me with a scared look. I regretted everything as soon as I saw my old love staring at me. I held my arms close to my body smudging blood on my shirt, and walked past him.

"Cara." His southern accent showing that made me smile a little, and I looked at him with my body in my doorway. He just stared at me at a loss for words, I scoffed and rolled my eyes, and walked towards my room with him trailing behind.

"Eric," he looked up at me seeing his eyes were turning red, "this is goodbye." And I shut my door leaving him standing there. I locked the door, and I heard him start knocking (lightly banging) on the door.

"Cara! Oh Cara. Please don't. Open the door!" He didn't seem to care when I showed him my cuts earlier in our relationship since I trusted him with my whole heart, and then he told everyone about them. With his faint voice on the other side of the door, I walked towards my desk, and pulled out my phone. I opened up the camera app and setting my phone a good distance away from my face. I hit record.

"Hello. My name is Cara Delevingne, and I have to set things straight," I shook my head to stop the tears from appearing, "I did not have intercourse with Eric, and I did not bother anyone to make everyone hate me, and I don't know why everyone hates me so much! But maybe I do, because now I hate me too. And right now, I don't really see the reason for trying. . . . or for talking. . . . or for breathing. I'm just done. So that's it, I guess. bye." I stopped the video in tears, and I posted it on all of my social medias. I cried harder when my phone started to ring with my internet friends trying to call me.

Still sobbing, I shut my phone off, and I sat there still crying, and with Eric now crying harder  in the background. He probably heard me since now I heard him saying over and over again, "I'm sorry." I don't understand why someone who would ruin my life over and over again, and now all of a sudden. Care? I opened up all of my pills and took one of each one. I studied my last pill, and how one small thing can change someone's life forever. I laid on my bed not crying anymore, but still shaking.

I laid so still waiting for my body to go into a forever sleep. A few minutes passed, and I was still alive. I started to cry harder, and I took out the pills that were supposed to make me go to sleep when I had insomnia. I took about ten of them out of the bottle, and swallowed them all which was hard since my hands were shaking. I laughed a little, and continued to think how I am going to die being fat, and unloved.

Then a wave of pain comes crashing into my gut at full force, making me grind my teeth so I don't yell out in agony of it all. I'm able to withstand the pain until riddles of pain erupt in both of my hips. With the pain being too much for to handle, I press my back against the wall and slowly slide down until my butt greets the shockingly cold floor.

In the response of the pain, both eyes close as I cringe. When will it stop hurting me so much? The heart in my chest skips a beat and my breath catches in my throat as a new found pain strikes me straight in my heart. It feels as if someone plunged a knife through my heart, twisting it ever so slowly. Someone is squeezing my heart, forcing all of the air to escape out of my lungs. At the same time someone squeezing my heart, someone is putting all their weight on top of my chest.

I can't breathe.

There can't be a single ounce of oxygen found anywhere in my body. It's hurting too much, oh my gosh. Tears leak out of my eyes when the tightness in my chest get stronger. My breathing gets faster as the fear of death thickens in my mind. I didn't think it would hurt this much.

As every second ticks by the pain just increases throughout my whole body. I don't want the pain to get worse; please make it stop hurting so much. Just kill me!

I scream a desperate cry for help that comes out two years too late. No matter how loud I scream, I know no one will hear me. The party rages downstairs, drowning all hope I had of being discovered on the cold floor of my bedroom.

I pushed everyone away; I have no one in my life to come save me. I regret this so much, but at least there is no more pain.

I wanted to die on the bed, and not have gone through all this pain. I did not know I would go through all this pain.

I'm going to die alone on this floor, aren't I?

I'm so sorry, Nash.

---------------------------

[Words: 1119]