There I stood, with a knife in my hand...and the rope to my throat. I kept reminding myself that it will be quick, easy, and painless. Then no one would have to feel my pain, my suffering. No one would have to kill themselves any longer. Everything could go back to the way it was. It only takes a matter of skill, and confidence to turn on the fan, and to plunge the knife into my heart.
My heart. The only thing that is keep me alive, but also keeping me dead. In the matter of moments, I can turn my heart into a lifeless thing, beating no longer its constant soft thumps that make my oxgyen go to my body. The heart will be motionless, cut open by my deep knife, and everything will be alright.
For a second, I couldnt breathe. I suddenly thought that this was the end, that I would die of suffication from a broken heart. But the reason I couldnt breathe was because I remembered all the friends I made. I remembered him. His golden lock hairs, his light blue eyes boring into mine...Shut up...and plunge the knife.
My life has been made in bits and pieces. Everything was falling apart, and even I was loosing control of who I was before. Shaking my head, I instantly thought about my mother, and my father...two good people, who would always frown when they saw their daughter...
Stop distracting. Taking one deep breath, I steped off the chair, and plunged the knife in my heart-
I woke up, gasping for air and shivering under my cover, cold sweat all over me. The alarm clock said it was five in the morning, way too early for me to be up, but I always wake up around that time when that dream shows up. In the end of the dreams, I plunged a knife into my heart, meaning that I must be dead. My teacher says if you die in a dream, you die in real life. If he only knew that the dream was better than real life.
Usually, I would stay there, laying and thinking about him. Tears would swell my eyes, and it would take a good hour for me to get back to normal. For some odd reason, today I felt really numb. Maybe this was good for me, finally accepting that I was moving on.
My life is hell, every day living through the motions that people call life. I hate it, and hate hate everyone for having such a...perfect life. It bugs me to see people kissing, let alone seeing people holding hands.
If you even once think this is a happy story with a happy ending, then you must got the wrong book. Wasnt the cover enough to show you that this book is unhappy? Cruel? Demented? Go ahead and read the darn thing, MY LIFE in these pages, and youll see that you have it all. Or maybe you dont see. That is okay too. But what Im saying is that life isnt all happy, and not everyone has a happy ending. I should know. Have a awful day...and hope you hate this book. I know I do.
