Your Ghost

What's death like?

It's not my fault no one cares about me. I know that. I am just unlucky . I was born to be a failure, I mean there's always failures isn't there? Well I am one of them.

And failures don't deserve to live.

What's the point of being alive if I just bring shit on everyone else's lives?
What is the point of breathing.
What is the point of trying to be someone I'm not.
These are all the thoughts crossing my mind as I stand on a stool in my basement.
No ones home.
No one will miss me.
No one will grieve over me.
No one will even notice.
Everything is flashing through my mind as tears are rushing down my face.
The rope is already knotted and it's hanging around my neck next to a necklace I bought for myself. It says 'hope'. Well, there's no hope for me.
I think about my mum as I stand there.
I think about my dad and everything he did to my mum and I.
My parents regret having me.
All these negative thoughts are rushing through my head and it's making me mad and sad.
That was it.
I kicked off of the stool.
I hang there.
My soul escapes my body.
I feel free.

Mum comes home, bruised and scarred, (dads doing of course) and she starts yelling my name to come and clean up.
It wasn't until 3 hours later that she saw my dull body. Emptied of life.
She drops to the floor.
She sobs uncontrollably.
Sounds of grief boom throughout her body.
She is sad.
She cares.
"WHY?!" She screams at the top of her lungs.
"Why not?" I whisper, but realising she can no longer hear me.