The scene fades out and all we see on the wall is a slideshow of Friday night. Videos and sequences of horrible morbid events I imagined of the different ways you tried to ruin me. The 30 people gasp as they see your mangled body curled up unnaturally on the dingy carpet with a pill bottle under your heavy chest. Then there's the empty metal shell and the baby's highchair. I couldn't help but wonder if you'd actually jump off it. They say once you're down you can't change your mind. Can't unknot the noose. There was the one where you ran in front of that car and the woman in the van just cries every night because you were someone's child and she killed you, even though you killed you, and she would've given anything to have a child but can't and now your mother has one less daughter and it's her fault. You were one of the most important people to me just by caring for me and I wasn't enough to make you happy.
I wasn't enough to make you WANT to stay.
How hard is it to want to live?
How could I not be enough?
It's simple really...... because I'm nothing.
I turn my head, then my shoulders.
And the hundred people staring at this wall, they know it now.
YOU ARE READING
Exposed
Teen Fiction"I've become transparent. Everyone around me watches as my stomach knots itself. Tying and tying and no tries to help or stop my acidic guts from adhering onto the inside of my skin and dissolving me from the inside out. Passersby are paralyzed by t...
