Imagine this.
You are tired of living this way. You are tired of pretending to be happy, and you force that smile all day and you are just tired. But you can't sleep anymore, your mind never shuts down, and all you want is to sleep. Your phone goes off and it's another text from that popular girl at school telling you to kill yourself. You ignore it and go on instagram. As you scroll you stop at a picture of your ex best friend kissing your boyfriend. Your whole body goes numb. 2 years together, he was your world, you told him everything, you helped eachother through the hard times. And you see this picture and lose it. You call him crying your eyes out. He picks up at the third ring.
"Hey baby. I'm kinda busy right now, can we talk later." You here laughter in the background.
"No...we need to talk now." You manage to say between sobs.
"Whats wrong babe? Are you crying?"
"Don't do that! I seen the picture! How dare you cheat on me! Are you with her right now? I can't believe you would do this to me, to us. Does two years mean nothing to you?" You scream into the phone, your face burning with anger and embarrassment.
"I'm so sorry babe. It's not like that. Of course these two years meant something. You are my world. I was ending it with her right now. It was a mistake. Please don't do this." You hear the worry and sorrow in his voice, but you were done.
"We will talk later. Goodbye." You hang up the phone before you hear his response.
You sit there crying so hard, your phone keeps going off from all of the messages from every one at school making fun of you. They all seen the picture, you know they did. You grab the blade that is hidden in your desk. You grab a piece of paper and begin to write.
I'm sorry I wasn't good enough. Mom and dad, please don't cry, don't waste your time on me. Everything will be better without me, you will see. To the asshole who broke my heart. I loved you so much, you were my world, without you I am nothing. So why stay? Hope she makes you happy, and sorry we couldn't talk.
You place the note on your desk and sit on the floor. You drag the blade across your vein. You press hard making the blood run faster. You cut, one, two, three, before you know it the room becomes blurry, your eyes droop, and the last tear runs down your cheek. And you are gone. The pain is gone. Your sorrow is gone. Now it all moves on to the others. But you can't change it because you are dead. But finally happy
