Entries of a broken soul

Lately my friend has been having a hard time, and this letter is her point of view.

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I feel alone. I have been ridiculed and judged by the people I call family, I have never felt real love.

I have an abusive mother and an absentee father, my brothers and sisters easily forget about me.

I have seen pictures and heard stories about how life was much better before I showed up. So I thought maybe if I was gone, their life would be better.

My brother and sister who ran away would come back, mom would have a strong relationship with her kids.

My friends don't really care about me like they say, they just pity me. They talk about me behind my back, making up stories about me or sharing personal details that were meant to be secrets.

No one really cares about me, no one really wants to.

I am at home all alone as usual, and from the couch I can see the kitchen, and in the kitchen I see a knife. The knife screams freedom, release from this purgatory.

I got up and walked over to it. I could tell it was new because it was still sharp. The silver blade reflected the light and it looked so beautiful, enchanting.

I brought it to my wrist, putting just enough pressure to let a little blood flow down my arm. It only hurt for less than a second, and I was grateful for that.

Just when I was  going to do it again but this time I would add more pressure, my mom and sisters walked through the door.

I ran to the washroom and rinsed the light marks of blood of the knife. As I was putting a bandage over my cut I kept thinking about what I would have missed in life if my family didn't walk through that door.

I would have missed my nieces and nephews growing up, falling in love, getting married, and having kids of my own.

I would have missed so much, but if I did do it I would have avoided all the heartbreak and pain.

As I went to bed that night I couldn't help but think one thing, a question that plagues my mind.

Would it have been worth it?

~Love S.