Sad Stories

The Hidden Mask

I stand alone in my bedroom a friend on the other end of the phone screaming. I have a gun to my head. This isn't how everyone thinks I am, but, I wear a mask. When I'm at school people think I am always energetic. I am that kid who always smiles. I have a friend who knows different. They see the side of me that isn't smiles, that isn't joy. They help me when I'm at my lowest. Why do I act energetic? Because people expect me to. The expect me to just come to school with a smile on my face. I don't have a smile anymore. I have a gun. And this gun will take me away from this torture. I still hear my friend on the other line screaming. She is yelling at me to put it down and talk, but I have talked. Every day. I talk to people in the halls, by the lockers, in the lunchroom. I finally pull the trigger. I hear the gun. Then that is it. I feel nothing. I thought that this would hurt yet it didn't. Then I am standing. I see myself on the ground, I hear my friend crying and yelling. I skip to a couple of days and I see others crying. I see others screaming and yelling. I didn't realize that this would hurt so much.