Trigger Warning: death, suicide, violence.
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I know people are laughing at me, pointing at me, staring at me; but I can't hear them, I can't see them. It's all blurry and deafening quiet around me. I can't feel my body or my mind, I'm numb and frozen to the bone. I don't even know how I get home or how is that Mum finds out what happened to me. I can't even hear the shouting at home when Mum and Dad try to decide the course of action and how to make the whole institution pay for what they did to me. I kind of hear something about moving.
All I do is lying on my bed, not feeling anything. It's cold, so cold that I can't even feel my body. But this cold isn't coming from the outside world, it is right in my very core, spreading to the rest of my body, to the exterior. What happened chilled my soul, shattering it to the point of no repair, making the decision quite easy.
I can't think of consequences or what ifs. I can only think of revenge, of making them see and understand what horrid creatures they are. I want them to be sorry for what they did to me. That's all what's in my mind. That's what moves me and takes me out of my house, sneaking out when my parents are sleeping. I'm even in the same clothes my Mum forced me to strip off when I got home, just to make them see it's because of them. This is their doing.
I'm not sure how I sneak into college, I don't even care if I'm spotted or anything, I just head to the Art History classroom, to my desk where so many horrid things have been written. The teachers, the principal, everyone has seen them, but they have done nothing. I run my fingers over the words, reading them out loud. The curses, the insults, the commands.
"I'm listening," I murmur before going for my Stanley knife, unveiling the blade and running my finger ever so lightly over it. "You'll be proud of me."
I take off my denim jacket, exposing my arms. I'm paler than usual, what makes it easier for me to see every vein, and I run my fingers over them. I take out the garlic I brought from home out of my pocket. If I'm finally doing this, I'm doing it right. I have thought about it so many times, I know exactly what I need.That is why I run the blade through the garlic, ensuring my veins won't close once I slice them open. I hold tightly the knife in my left hand and look at my right arm, coldly, emotionless, determined.
I don't even feel the blade when I press it against my flesh. It doesn't hurt when I run it over the greenish lines under my skin, I don't feel anything when I see the blood pouring from the cuts. The little droplets run down my arm, dripping on my desk, staining my hand.
I laugh, but it's a dry and sarcastic sound. With blood dripping from my arm, I walk up to the board because they need to know it. It has to be clear. Loud. Big. This is all for them. They told me to kill myself and I'm doing it. This is my present for them.
I. Did. It. I spell the words with my very blood, grinning maniacally.
I'm so long lost this doesn't faze me anymore.
I go back to my desk, grab the knife again and bring more blood from the other arm to the scene, still feeling nothing but coldness.
"I bet they'll be happy," I murmur. "What a good girl. I'm finally listening. I hope you never forget this. I hope this haunts you forever. I hope you never, never forget me."
I put on my jacket again, feeling dizzy and weaker, colder. The blood stains my jacket immediately, and I just see the denim become red as the world starts to become darker around. I want them to pay, I want them to feel remorse, I want them to suffer as much as I did. I want to humiliate them like the did with me. I want to shout they are the real monsters and this is the only way they'll finally listen.
No one helped. Everyone ignored me. Will they be able to turn their backs on me now?
"I did it," I whisper. "I did it. For you all. I did it. I did it," I mumble and mumble as my body gets weaker, as I crumble on my desk, as all I can feel is cold and hatred. Until I see nothing, feel nothing and say nothing.
It's darkness for so long, even when I wake up again. It's darkness when I realise I'm still around. It's darkness when I learn I'm a ghost that one can see or hear. It's darkness until even what I did is forgotten by me. It's darkness, cold, hatred, rage and resentment until he comes and changes it all.
-The End-
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We all knew this happened. This is really how it happened, what she felt, what drove her. You can notice the big difference, don't you? From how she was here to how she ends in Unseen. Remember everything is fine at the end with her and James.
Last dedication to LolzBolz02
Bel, xx
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Crushed
Teen FictionLife is hell. Life is painful. People are mean and hurtful. They spot the weak ones and torment them until there’s nothing left. Until the soul has been crushed and all life has left the body. Until there’s only a corpse. They drive one until the ed...