Suicide Diaries

Chapter 1 - Day 1

Day 1

145. All but one of my friends abandoned me.

146. I lost almost all of my Tumblr followers.

147. My father left shortly after I was born.

148. Even my cat doesn't like coming near me anymore.

149. My teachers enjoy failing me for the dumbest reasons.

150. I used to be pretty.

     That's only 150 and I came up with them in three minutes. Is it bad that I could figure out 150 things wrong with me in that short amount of time? I guess I should try to figure out things good about myself.

Things Good About Me

1. I'm observant of all the things bad about me.

2. I can jailbreak my iPod -- That's a lie, my brother did it for me.

2. nothing.

     The bell rings to announce class has officially started. Even though it's started, no one is in their seats, including the teacher, who is still reading the latest issue of Glamour. I tear the corner off of a page in my notebook and roll it into a little ball. This class is useless. This school is useless. I'm useless.

     Every day I can't wait till the day is over. These are the longest seven hours of my life. Seven hours a day, five days a week. Four when I can get out of one of them.

     I hate being home. I hate being at school. The only place I enjoy being is the park a mile from my house. My mother doesn't even realize I'm not home half the time. Even when she does realize she doesn't care. Ever since I was twelve I've distanced myself from her. She's at work a lot, anyway. My brother is always home. He always has people over. He is little Mr. Perfect. My mom loves him more than she loves me.

     My father left when I was a baby. He didn't believe I was his, because I was blond when I was born. I still was until I was three. He left when I was ten months old. Once I was three my hair started getting darker and now it's black. My mom still has full custody; I don't know where my dad is.

     I've been cutting since I was fourteen. I got the idea from a show on MTV against cutting. It seemed like a good idea. Now it's a habit. It just makes me feel better. I enjoy replacing emotional pain with physical pain. It helps me forget. Sometimes I have to get creative with where I cut. Usually I cut places like my thighs and my stomach. I try to stay away from my wrists since people check there the most. I got sent to the counselor once in freshman year because someone had seen. Thank goodness I have a cat to use as a cover.

     Sometimes I do, however, cut on my wrists.

     I'm sixteen and at the end of my sophomore year. I'm just glad it's almost summer because I'll be out of school. I can finally spend all my time at the park.

     I do have one friend, Kati. She cuts, too. She doesn't tell on me, I don't tell on her. We listen to the same music and enjoy the same things.

     We also agreed to commit suicide together. 100 days from today. Today is day one. 100 days from now we'll be dead. I can't wait.

     The reason we don't do it now is we want to make sure everything is set and everything works. We want to make sure it's successful and we don't end up failing at it. Nothing is worse than trying to kill yourself and failing, having to live with that when you already wished you were dead.

     I still don't know how I'm going to do it. I want it to be painless; I've suffered enough, I don't want to suffer any more.

     The bell rings dismissing sixth period; one more to go before I can go home. I clutch my notebook close to my chest as I try to weasel my way out of the classroom.