The Unexpected

If Suicide Was A Person

If Suicide was a person, he'd be my good friend. He'd be handsome, with an amazing smile. When he laughed it'd sound so real, but when you looked in his eyes you could see that it wasn't, Suicide still seemed pretty okay though. Once I got to know Suicide, I didn't know how dark he was making me. My smile and laugh was like his,even though I didn't quite feel what I was doing. The friends that I had that hung out with him slowly disappeared. The only thing left of them was their picture in the paper. Suicide had me convinced that cutting and purging was the only way to stay pretty, and I really wanted to impress him. One day I said "No, I won't." He took my arms and cut them deeply. His desire to die had become mine, and we were doing it together. We both survived. The next time he asked me to take a lot of pills, and so I did. I got sick and lived, my dearest Suicide had died with a rope around his neck, cuts all over his body, many pills in his system, and a hole in his head. Since that day I fought to be stronger. Then one day my love was taken from me. I did as my dearest Suicide taught me. I took many pills, something I hadn't done for a long time. Again I was sick and didn't get to join the numbness of death. Slowly I became more and more like Suicide, but soon it was over, and Suicide would never hurt me again.