Eating Away At My Insides (Short Story)

...

I walked outside of my room, tired from the sudden wakeup call. Can't my mom just find a better way to wake me up than flash the light in my face before I was ready? I thought. I went into the kitchen, grabbed some of the pumpkin crunch cake we made previously, and headed to my room to eat. Just a typical morning, I thought to myself. Nothing bad will happen, I hope. Usually my days were either normal or terrible. Sometimes the latter, mostly the former. I ate my breakfast and washed my plate off, then proceeded to use my free time until I had to get ready to play Pokemon. Finally got a Meowstic from the GTS, I thought with happiness. I sighed, knowing today was probably going to be a typical, normal, backbreaking school day.

~time skip to after school~

I walked through the door, exhausted. My mom was still at the computer, on a call with the usual cranky customer. I put my black backpack down and headed back into my room, flopping myself down on my bed. I was just about ready to lock myself in there for the whole of my life. School sucked more than usual. I now had 3 projects to do, and I figured I'd never get them turned in on time, as I only had the remaining weekend to do so. A friend has been seriously upset, another has been really depressed, and... I didn't know what I could do to help. I looked up to the extra shelf in front of my bed. This was the shelf that me and my mom used if food or cooking materials or cleaning stuff couldn't fit in the closet or pantry, so we kept it all here. I noticed my animal figurines and plastic MLP toys were still there, along with a couple bottles of PocketBac hand sanitizer. I always had a vivid imagination, and I thought the cans of vegetables and boxes of air fresheners made a nice little landscape for my toys. I started wondering what it would be like if I drank hand sanitizer, for no good reason at all. Having ADHD or ADD tends to make you think about the most random of things. Would I die, or merely get seriously sick? I guess I'd die either way, in truth.

I walked into the bathroom after a short session of venting with measly photo edits. I looked in the mirror, my messy, short, brown hair covering the left side of my face. Again. I brushed it aside. I started taking deep breaths to calm myself, my face still a cherry red from crying. I wiped off the tears, determined to keep my composure, instead of bursting into tears again and messing up my mom's current call. I wanted to cut with a pencil again... Thank goodness it never opened a wound. I went back into my room, trying to find a dulled-enough pencil to draw on my arm with. I then remembered the tiny pair of metal, razor-sharp scissors in one of the bathroom drawers. My mom said it was for clipping nails, I believe, but I never quite knew for sure. I thought back. Should I get them?... I decided I would. Time to actually feel the pain, and become immune to it, other than feeling it every single day. Thanks, fucking bullies. For making my life a living hell. I sighed and went back to grab the scissors. This was better than nothing, I guessed. I scratched it on my arm, just a bit. I winced. The pain hurt, but I was going to change that. I did it again. Same pain. I decided to just get it over with, and started getting into cutting.

I covered myself up in my covers after my little cutting spree. My arm now had three visible cuts. Good thing it was fall now, so I'd have an excuse to wear my anime hoodie. I rolled around, clearly bored. I thought back to my self-statement about the hand sanitizer. I wondered. I pondered over the simple question of "Should I try it?". I made up my mind after an hour. An hour till my mom got off work.

I would do it.

And I would die in peace.

A/N: Suicide does not kill people. Sadness and suffering does. If anyone is in need of help, please contact me. I'd be happy to help you.