Day 1 - 1/3/09
12:52 am
My palms sweat as I struggled to hold the seven pills in my hand. I didn’t know the brand or even the proper name for them. They went around town, the pills. They called them the medicine. It was somewhat of a solution to all problems, a cure. And what can cure all problems better than death itself?
The few unhealed cuts on my skin burned as beads of sweat trickled down them. I bit hard on my lip in an effort not to cuss out the wretched feeling of my wrists. I held the medicine in my right hand as I stroked the scars with my fore-finger. My nails were painted a dark red matching the color of the fresh wounds I had carved into my skin the hour before. As I looked over them tracing the dark pigmentation and filled every corner of my arms, beads of tears rimmed my dark brown eyes. Was this it?
1:34 am
The want felt so strong, engulfing me in its flames. It felt as if it were some sort of thrill, a game. “How long can you last, before you want to die?”
“I’m sick of it. I don’t want to play anymore,” I whispered to myself and the grip on the seven pills in my hand tightened. The cure to all my problems was right in front of me and I couldn’t even do it. Why was I such a weak creature? Always afraid, afraid to speak, afraid to want, afraid to love. A person like me wasn’t fit for this world; I wasn’t created to be strong.
It was almost like Survival of the Fittest. Only the strongest were to make it past. And unfortunately for me, I didn’t fit the bill. Why exist without reason? Why be alive without purpose?
I glared into the palm of my hand, the seven pills gleaming from the sweat. My eyes were swollen and red. I shook violently as adrenaline pumped through every vein of my feeble, pale body.
I closed my eyes and breathed in tempo with my pounding heart. I could hardly hear myself think. Not that I wanted to, all that flowed through my head was the negativity and evil of my thoughts.
Through the pounding heartbeats I heard the finally hear myself think. It was a sharp hiss of both encouragement and persuasion.
Do it. It whispered.
So I did.
YOU ARE READING
Before I Go (unfinished)
Teen FictionWhat does it cost to live a life free of misery? What will it take for Darcy Evans to return, before she is lost forever? What if you died, but weren't dead?
