Taken

I

All I have to do is jump. I can put an end to it all. I won't have to deal with all the physical, emotional, and mental pain anymore. I can put an end to my misery. I'll be doing everybody a favor.

A single tear rolls down my cheek and drops over the railing, making its way to become a part of the rippling rapid. I stare down below and bite my lip. This is the very place where many suicides occur each year. I've been coming to this same spot everyday for the past year, debating whether or not I should join the other people whose bodies have never been recovered.

You should just get it over with. You have nothing to live for.

My breathing picks up it's pace, and I begin to hyperventilate. My conscience is right, why have I been so reluctant to actually do it?

Because of all that false hope. Life ain't gonna get any better you worthless, pathetic bastard.

I shut my eyes and shake my head, memories of the past and present flooding into my mind. I'm not sure how much longer I can submit myself to the world.

Why do I hold back?

I take a deep breath in and clutch the cold, rusty railing once more, looking back down into the abyss of the night. Somewhere down there is my mother, and maybe that's why I hold back.

My name is Selah Rosewood, and my life is not worth living for. Let me start from the beginning.

↞↠

I almost died at birth. My mother was a smoker and a very heavy drinker. The doctors discovered that I was born with a hole in my heart, so naturally they didn't think I would make it. Apparently it was a miracle that I survived, considering I was a little under two months premature. However, I still have a heart defect until this day.

My dad, well, my father, was very abusive. He began to whip me with belts and hit me with baseball bats from when I was three years old. He would beat my mother by means of his fists, he cut her skin with kitchen knives, and would even rape her daily. Of course this was all against her will, she had no choice but to stay with him. She was unstable and had nowhere to go. If my mother left she would be unemployed, homeless, and alone. She would have been forced to give me to the government, therefore she remained quiet.

My father traumatized me every single night. Like he did to my mother, he would cut my arms and legs deep with knives, leaving nasty scars. This continued up until I was eight years old when my mother decided to take the easy way out.

She jumped.

One night when I was tossing and turning in bed, I heard rattling coming from the kitchen. Naturally I got up and decided to investigate. Once I walked out of my room, I saw a flash of dark brown hair exiting through the back door. In curiosity I creeped down the hallway and followed my mom outside.

It was very late at night, way past midnight. But I followed her anyway. Our house was in the middle of nowhere, located amongst the trees. And where there was a forest, a river had to have been near by.

It felt like I was stealthily following her for ages. We must've been miles away from home. But I made sure not to make a peep, just incase she decided to turn around.

After what felt like an eternity, she stopped walking. I thought I was busted, but it turned out that she reached her destination. I heard the faint sound of the rapid and was confused as to why she wanted to go to that specific spot.