Alyssa gave the boy some time alone by my graveside. He read his valentine aloud at my graveside and then whispered to me, "Why did you do it?" His voice was choked up and he was on the verge of tears. "I wish you didn't."
Alyssa had picked up a few lilies from an older woman who lived down the street. They laid them on my grave in the shape of a heart. I used to help the woman with her gardens. After I died, she sectioned off an area of her garden just to grow lilies for me. I felt bad, I didn't deserve that. I left her with no help, but she did something for me anyway.
I felt so guilty for that.
Even when another younger girl in the neighborhood stepped in in my place to help with the gardening, she didn't know how to do everything like I did. She would learn in time but I felt guilty nonetheless.
And that was only one of the things I regretted about my suicide.
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...
