The house is so silent it's screaming at me. Tears stream down my eyes as I make my way to the bathroom. Most nights I only make it down the hallway but sometimes I make it to the bathroom staring off into the mirror. Tonight is different though, I've opened that faded old drawer and removed one of my hidden razors. With a closed door I caressed my skin gently creating a fine line of red. First it stings but watching the blood pool and bubble gives me a sense of aliveness. In reality I just go through the motions of the day and to feel anything real I have to play my arm as a cello. It's addictive to feel alive. Tonight I wanted to feel like I was on cloud nine. Maybe that's why I'm laying on these blue sheets and under those bright white lights. It was worth a night full of life. I felt sad, mad, confused, happy, unsure, etc. Maybe I'm crazy or crazy stupid but a week after I left the hospital I wound up there again. And that's when it became a real addiction. To feel alive is something I always wanted to do. My parents though became worried and the state thought it be best to send me to an institution. They thought I was depressed but in reality I was happy playing my cello. Every night I'd play a symphony and every night they'd take away my bow of life. I'm really starting to feel the down after the last time. I haven't been able to get my hands on a blade. I don't think I can handle this lifeless life. A week was hard and it has been a month. Tonight will be the last night. Walking to the window I wrap my make shift rope around my neck and dangle my legs over the edge. Yelling a nurse rushes into my room reaching for me. A second too late she grasps air as I'm sent flying over the window seal. The last few months flash before my eyes and I'm sent into an eternal blackness. It wasn't what I imagined the after life would be. It's like living my old life again but with less motion and more, nothing. I guess you really don't know what's in the after life but for me it was my own personal hell of nothing.
