It Was Always Me

My feet are quick and nimble on the concrete sidewalk, making it seem like I'm running which I probably should be. I make it to school, just on time with my breathing rapid and ragged and my chest heaving with every breath. You would think that I would have friends waiting for me, I used to but that all changed about five years ago and I don't even know why.

It's like everyone I knew, cared and loved had an epiphany realising that I wasn't worth talking to, that I was a waste of their time. I became non-existent. I was like air. Yes! Like air, you never realise that it's there and honestly you don't care but you know that it is there, you just choose not to acknowledge its existence.

I'm not saying I'm exactly like air because you can't really live without air but I'm pretty sure the world would be able to sustain without me. Especially since I feel that now the world has distanced itself from me, cutting me off leaving me isolated. This saddens me deeply and my sorrow buries itself deep into my soul turning everything about me from positive to negative, nasty, noxious thoughts.

My mind begins to unlock and is infiltrated with every single nasty thought I've ever had about myself making me wonder if I was the cause of my desolation. I gnaw on my lip, trying to prevent the wave of tears pooling in my eyes from overflowing even though I know it's inevitable.

In the tick of my watches hands, my eyes were red and puffy. Hot, salty, wet tracks from the constant flow of tears were seeping into my skin. I wipe my cheeks and rub my eyes furiously trying to remove any evidence of my tears, however though the tracks of my tears may not be visible to others, I will always feel them sliding down my cheeks reminding me that I will never be good enough. I sniffle one last time before finally regaining my composure.

One moment I am standing at the school gates, questioning the point of going in, thinking about how I am such burden and suddenly I find myself outside my old hideout. As I graze my hand over the indented letters of my name reminiscing of the old days I fail to notice the stinging sensation crawling through my skin and the blood on my hands. I've become numb, to everything.

Gum leaves fall down showering me and snapping me out of my daze. The skin on my lip has been gnawed through, now clearly bleeding but I still can't feel it even though I can taste the metallic tinge of blood seep into my mouth.

I walk towards my final destination. The perfect little safe haven, where I can finally end my pathetic existence. I take the knife out of my buried box and chuck it to the ground. Next, I chuck out the rope and the gun?!? Wait, where did I even get this thing from? Oh, well I shrug absentmindedly. There's only one more thing in the box. Pills.

That settles it, death by overdose. I think about writing letters to everyone I know but I don't think they'll appreciate an explanation. This is it. I grab a water bottle and the pills then lay down on the soft sand, preparing to erase my existence from this world.

I calmly say to myself, "Come on, you have to do this. It's easier than you think." Then in one go all the pills are in my mouth. I quickly gulp down the whole bottle of water hoping to wash away the terrible aftertaste and speed up the process of dying.

I lie there. Tear stained cheeks, sweaty palms and the hiccupping sound of my every weakened cry. My head is pounding, my body is hurting and my vision is blurry. My tears falling with the slowing beat of my heart.

I take one last breath and expel "It was always me."