Short Stories

A Letter to the World

Author's Note:
The following events are NOT my personal story. However, many of this is going unnoticed. If you are going through this and want to talk to someone about it, I'm always open.

Daddy tells me I'm worthless. He tells me that I'm just a piece of skin that only dogs and pigs should have to suffer with. He comes into my room at night, his breath thick with alcohol and his clothes soaked in nicotine. He slips under the covers and robs me of my livelihood, all the while, telling me that the sooner I stop struggling and submit, the better it would be for the both of us. I am forced to clean the house each day and with every room I finish, the angrier I become.

I slip into his room and a pair of angry eyes glare at me. It takes me a moment to realize it is my reflection in the mirror, but when I do, I take this time to look at myself. It's been a few months since I could and I notice the difference. Red gashed on my face from Daddy's recent misgivings. Deep purple bruises on my arms from when I've tried to fight as he robs me yet again during the night.

I look around at the trinkets decorating his room and this cold rush of anger possesses me. How can I ever escape from this despicable nightmare which has manifested into my past, present, and future? How can I stop the pain and the fear?

I grab a paperweight, watching it gleam in my hand. I used to be bright. I used to sparkle with unvarnished innocence. I look back at my reflection in the mirror. I feel my anger whell up inside of me and with one fling, the paperweight crashed against the mirror, shattering it. I watched in horror as it spiderwebbed, distorting my image. I can't keep this up. I can't keep living with him, with this pain, with this fear. I can't find any other solution but this.

The shimmering sharp shard of glass feels heavy in the Palm of my hand. It stings as I slice my wrists with it and as I'm waiting for my blood to drain and slip off into unconsciousness and ultimately death, I am writing this. This is my suicide note.