Once I stepped inside my room I went to the bathroom. I hid the pills where I hid the screw.
Once I got the pills I sat them on the sink. I sat beside the sink and began writing my letter.
I'm so sorry.
You don't know I feel everyday. I feel tortured, I feel helpless, I feel hopeless.
I'm scared of my own head.
I'm a stupid teenager that doesn't know what to do. My life has been ruined so many times and I'm tired of hanging on.
I'm tired of being alone, I'm tired of crying, tired of pretending, tired of being angry, tired of feeling stuck and needing help. I'm tired of remembering, I'm tired of missing things and missing people. I'm tired of feeling worthless and empty, tired of not being able to let go. But I think most of all, I'm tired of being tired.
I don't want to do this anymore.
And I hope you understand.
I might be crazy, I don't know, I have voices in my head that won't leave me alone. God, why won't they leave me alone.
I'm corrupted, just like Dr.Cooper was. He was better at hiding it though. I want to know his story.
Why? Why did he decide to take his own life. Was he like me?
Did he hear the voices that I hear?
Whatever it was he got to be free.
I want to be free. Free of the voices, free of the struggles.
So, I'm sorry. For not being good enough.
I don't know if you loved me. I don't know what love is anymore.
But I know I love you...Mom I love you so much. I love you so so much. And I want to believe you love me too but I can't.
Goodbye....I hope you understand.
I love you.
I folded the paper and placed it on the sink.
I'm ready.
I started the bath water at a warm temperature, clogging the drain.
While the tub filled with water I stood, looking at the porcelain side of the sink.
My reflection stood and looked at me as I looked at it. My hazel eyes were dull and held no life. I was truly dead inside.
The tub was filled and I was ready. I took my slippers off and grabbed the pills.
I slowly sunk into the tub, the warm water instantly relaxed me and my wet clothes stuck to my skin.
Once I was fully in I looked at the pills. I slowly put one in my mouth then swallowed. I repeated this process untill there were no more pills.
My head was pounding and my eyesight was blurring.
Go to sleep.
It's okay now.
We promise.
"Yea, it's okay now," I whispered, "Go to sleep Cheyenne."
My vision was darkening and my breathing was getting shallow.
It's over.
I'm free. I'm going to be free.
I could barely breath and the only thing I could focus on was my letter.
"Just go to sleep."
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The hospital was swarming with nurse's frantically rushing this way and that but Cheyene's mom, Jane, just pushed past them.
Jane rushed down hallway after hallway trying to find her baby until she ran into Dr.Evans.
"Where's my baby," Jane hysterically asked, " Where's Cheyenne."
Dr.Evans heart couldn't help but break as this woman cried in front of him.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered.
Jane broke down. She fell to the floor, sobbing out incoherent words.
She rocked back and force, her arms over her knees.
Dr. Evans kneeled down and comforted the woman before reaching in to his jacket pocket and pulling out Cheyennes letter.
"This is for you."
Jane grabbed the letter, almost ripping it apart to see what it said.
Janes eyes twisted from confusion, to sadness, to pure despair in a matter of seconds.
"You can save her right," the mother asked, desperate for her daughter, "Please tell me you can save her."
Dr.Evans said nothing, just hugged the woman as she wept in his arms.
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The funeral consisted of Cheyennes classmates that never noticed her, relatives that never cared enough to check up on her, and the few people that noticed her and cared for her.
Cheyenne looked what the society would call normal; her scars were gone, her hair was perfectly curled, and the make up on her face made her look beautiful.
Jane didn't like that. She wanted her regular little girl back. The one that didn't need makeup to look beautiful.
Jane wept and sobbed wishing for her baby to live again.
Everyone paid their respects and some said speeches, talking about how well they knew Cheyenne when in reality they knew nothing about her.
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The funeral was over and Jane was at home, ignoring the knocks of people that brought casseroles and flowers. She didn't needs those things. She needed her daughter back.
She laid on Cheyennes bed, noticing the small blood stains in the sheets for the first time.
If only she noticed.
She closed her eyes, smelling the soft scent of her deceased daughter.
Maybe when she wakes of this would have all been a dream.
Her husband and both her daughters would be back, they would all be happy. Finally happy.
Yeah, maybe.
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I'm sooo sorry I haven't uploaded.
Don't know if anybody's still reading this but this is it.
THE END.
