Suicide Season

Chapter two

The house was quiet and peaceful,carefully I slid off my aged converses and placed them into a small wooden cabinet.Vaguely I walked up to my room and closed the door,I sat on my bed looking at my room,my walls were a glimmering light blue,my bed was a queen sized twin,which had a jack skeleton blanket draped over the black bed sheet laying underneath,my walls were covered in small patches of posters and drawings and unfinished doodles.Pushing away from my room,I glanced outside my window and I was mesmerized by the snow,it was white,the purest color that symbolized innocence.Oh how it would be different in my life if I was innocent and didn't have to live a day in this hell,but soon very soon I won't have to anymore.Suddenly my silence was interrupted as the house shook as the door slammed open downstairs and I heard my mother hollering at my father on the phone.Swallowing hard I sighed and pulled out a small golden metallic notebook,flipping the crisp neat cover over I glanced at the first thing I ever wrote,

"Death.
Wouldn't it just be better than living?
Why suffer and be shot down?
Trying to fly when you don't belong.
Is t it sweet how life works?
Being placed on a chess board?
Being the king and queen.
You push around the weak.
You make them build a wall.
Of fear.
Of pain
Of suffering.
Of trauma.
They won't fight back.
How do I know this you ask?
I am one of the weak.
I walk that road alone.
Thanks to them.
So my breathe shallows out.
I'm no longer breathing.
Goodbye."

My eyes gloss over in proud.I still feel the same,that described my life as it is now.My bullies they've build a wall for me.No one can be let in,and no one can shatter it that way.I think of it as protection,from the real world.From its cruel endings and choked beginnings.Its funny really.Slowly my thoughts are pulled aside as my wrist begin to itch,I glance down seeing the new and fading scars plastered on to my body.Quickly I don't hesitate to grab my blade,it's sharp edge is what keeps me sane,it helps me through the thoughts,the pain,and the suffering.Slowly I push the blade down,pushing into my skin,it pulls the skin apart as the sweet metallic red seeps through running down my pale skin,it drops down to a small pool below.That feeling is addicting it's pulling me in,it keeps me breathing.Abruptly I stop the blade from cutting me anymore,I glance down at my canvas,it's a master piece,slowly I begin to open my bedroom door and turn to my right locking the bathroom door.The light is comforting like a mother that I've never had and the sting from the hydrogen peroxide was a father who was so enforced to work,I've never even seen him around,but from my family I'm a striking,walking resemblance to him.Slowly I'm losing frequency and I'm slowly pulling back and pushing the gauze covered in Neosporin to my wounded flesh.Im running out of time,slowly I grab a giant bandaid and stick it on covering my canvas.Shaking my thoughts aside I walk into my room and grab my book bag grabbing my first period folder.

"Reminder: Students you must sit by you're assigned partner,thus I've agreed that you'll both work well together for the best of the worst."

Sighing,I lay back my head hits the soft pillows and I look at the calendar above my bed,and I count down the days.
The pain is all worth the wait.
The tears.
The cuts.
The emptiness.
All will end in fourth five days.