LiFE SeRIES

LiFE

   Today was the day that I put my plan into action.  I've been bullied for my whole life, my parents are dead, and I'm a teen father. The mother of my child abandoned us both. Now, I started my plan early this morning. As always, I woke up feeling overly depressed, I had to drag myself to school. I went to my overly boring math class, and did nothing of importance. I made my way to the lunchroom, I was about to eat my bland lunch, but then I was surrounded by the scum of the earth, bullies. They kept laughing at the fact that I'm teen dad, and they kept calling me emo.
“I'm not emo!” I yelled “Emo is a music genre!” Then the bullies said “So are you goth or something?”

After that I ran home, whilst listening to My Chemical Love. I layed in bed and cried myself to sleep. In the morning I grabbed my knife and rope, then threw them into my bag. I raced to school to perform the task. I made it to the side door's of the school, where the jocks hang out, and I slit all of their necks.  Next I go to the staff room, to kill all of the teachers who did nothing as I suffered. After killing everyone, three people remained, the tormentors who ruined my life. Their backs were turned away from me, I snuck up quietly behind them. The grip of the knife tight in my hand. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears, I inched closers to them. The rage and hate I feel for them, running through every vessel in my body. Raising my arm above my head and coming down swiftly on the neck of my first target. The blood started dripping down his neck. Twisting the blade violently, ripping the blade out and plunging the knife into the others back and straight into his right kidney. He dropped right onto the floor, like a rock sinking into the bottom of the riverbed. The third one tried to run but he slipped on a pool of blood. I stomped my foot down on the back of his head. The crack of his nose echoed around the room. Picking up my foot up again I slammed it down on his ribs, the satisfying crack was felt underneath my foot. I bent down and plunged my knife into the side of his neck, cutting an artery.

I walked through the hallways, stained with crimson, my clothes were dripping red. I made my way to a lonesome tree in the schoolyard. I dug around inside my bag to find the rope. Grasping the rope with my shaking, sweaty hands. Now here I stand, blood soaked with a rope hanging out of my hand. I hooked the rope over a branch and wrapped it around itself 12 times. Dropping the suicide note to the ground below me, with the rope around my neck. I took the final look at the ruined world around me and my body dropped. My blood stained body heavy and swinging, the note I wrote stated;

To whoever finds this and my son
The world was a horrible place to me I was unloved work. Left in the gutters of the art gallery of the world. But today I leave the world, I cannot be art so I will create it with my death. I'm sorry son, I won't see you grow up, but it's for the best. The world will see what it missed from me. My loss will create the most stunning sound.

-A work of art the world couldn't find any beauty in.