VEINS

T H R E E (plans)

I have this inhuman drive to want to die. I could care less what happens to me at this point. I don't know how to explain it. I'm so done. So sad. So depressed. And nothing seems to help. Ever.

I slam my back pack down onto the floor next to my Art desk. Looks like I'll be spending the rest of lunch in here since everyone seems to be a bunch of incapable assholes today.

No one else is in here, which pleases me. I grab my headphones and blast my music in my ears. The desk is cold but my sweater hugs my arms as I rest my head on top of my folded arms and let my thoughts drift.

I wonder what my parents would think of me right now. They'd probably hate me. They'd be ashamed I'm their daughter, that's for sure.

If there is a heaven, and they really are watching me from up there, I want to apologize for being the way I am.

I close my eyes tight, trying to keep the tears in. I've tried so many times to join them. But I can't. The universe won't allow me to.

I remember the 6th grade. Kids hated me. I hated me. I was soft back then. I used to be afraid, really quite. I didn't speak up for myself. I thought if I was quite enough, still enough, I would wash away in the background. But that didn't help. It was middle school, everyone stood out.

That's when I first started to take everything out on my skin. No one knew. I only attacked my hips, afraid of anyone ever figuring out that I really did hate myself.

Then one night came along... I snuck out and climbed out onto the top of the roof. I guess I was louder than I meant to have been because Chelsy ran outside with Drake, her now ex husband. I was standing on the edge of the roof, looking up at the sky. Heights never have bothered me.

They yelled to me, but I never could understand what they were telling me in that moment. All that mattered was I wanted out of this world. I stood up there in a sweater and pajama pants hugging my body for the longest time, saying I'm sorry for all the little things in my head.

Suddenly I heard the sound of sirens and looked down to find red, blue, and white lights flashing. It was then my heart filled with panic. They were going to try and stop me! I knew it, and I didn't want that. I started to back away from the edge, about to run straight off it.

I took one breath, and began to charge. I was going to do it. I was going die, and I was ready. At eleven years old I was ready to be gone.

I felt my body lunge off the edge of the house, but it felt like the edge of the earth to me.

Everything became slow. The air sored threw my hair and hit all the little hairs on my body. I finally felt some sort of freedom while falling threw the air that night.

I was ready to feel my body break into pieces as I was going to hit the hard solid ground. But instead, my body bounced back, my eyes fled open, faces swirled around me. My hands felt the cloth I was on. People on every end, holding the sheet tight.

I was mad. I was furious. They had stopped me from the one thing I wanted more than anything. I remember yelling, screaming at them, at the top of my lungs.

Everyone was scared. Everyone thought I had lost my mind. And maybe I did. Maybe I did loose my mind that day. Or maybe I had already lost it a long time ago. Maybe I was born without sanity.

I feel someone's hand on my shoulder. I jerk up and find Chris looking at me. I quickly wipe the tears from my eyes and glare at him. "What?" I hiss.

He pulls a chair next to me. "The bells going to ring in ten minutes." He says calmly.

I slump back down in my chair and sigh. He places his hand on my back and runs it up and down gently. His green eyes study me. I want to kiss him so bad. I want to get lost in his warmth.