I've been getting used to just kind of being here, without really being here. I hoped that soon I could disappear for real. Was I just going to be trapped in this half-world forever? Surely there had to be something more. I hoped there was.
I remember the feeling of sorrow, of pain, and wanting to take my life. I sat alone on the couch in front of the TV waiting for the ball to drop, for some reason everyone else had already gone to bed, which was strange. We always stayed up until midnight. I remembered last new years when everything just seemed to be crashing down on me.
Last year while my family waited for the ball drop, I hid in my bathroom, spilling my blood into the sink with my shaving razor. It was a good distraction, I remembered. School, friends, homework, family, it had all been too much. While everyone else was looking on the new year with hope, the only thing I could feel was despair.
The blood running down the drain helped to take my mind off of everything. I only started crying once I finished cutting. The tears mixed with the deep red liquid in the sink and made it run down faster.
I watched the blood continue to drip, eventually getting bored with watching it quickly bead up. It eventually stopped for the most part, so I bandaged it. Then I plugged my earbuds into my phone and curled up in bed listening to the calming music until I fell asleep.
My new years resolution had been to find a way to permanently fix my pain.
And I had.
YOU ARE READING
After Suicide
Short StoryWaking up after dying is the strangest feeling. I knew I had succeeded, the overdose was enough and no one was home to stop me or to realize what I had done until it was too late. But this morning, I opened my eyes, right before my alarm went off...
