i was broken | c.s.

13. they won't miss me.

kj apa

3:00pm, may 22nd

i stumble into my house, still in a blur.

i struggle with openning the door to the closet by my living room but when i open it i dig through in a search for rope.

i know i have some.

i shakily grab some tied up rope and carelessly throw it to the living room.

then, i rush to my room — almost falling twice — to grab some paper and a pencil.

i'm still in tears from before.

i messily write, "i couldn't take the emptiness anymore" on it and leave it to go to the rope and tie a noose.

everything's so blurry and i keep scratching my arm to open up the cuts and wounds.

once the noose is tied up i tie it to an upside down arc on the roof that i never knew the meaning of, but it seems strong enough to hold me.

i stand up on a stool i brought here earlier, put the noose around my neck, and take a breath.

i'm doing this.

what once was a fleeting thought, 

is now an action made during a blurry moment where i'm in a bad mentality.

i'm trembling in fear.

why am i scared?

this is what i want.

i think.

it is.

it's not just that i want to.

it feels like..

something's pulling me towards this.

making me gravitate to death.

to suicide.

like someone wants me dead.

like cole wants me dead.

i kick the stool away and suddenly i'm hanging above the ground.

the rope tight against my neck,

making it nearly impossible to breath.

i gasp for air, until i feel it leave my system.

i start growing limp,

i stop thrashing.

my heart rate slows after being unnaturally high.

and i drift further and further away from consciousness.

— ≛ —

authors note

hey, sorry i haven't really been updating. i've been really stressed and i'm going through a lot of shit. my first day of school is in 6 hours and i cannot sleep. i've had like over 15 anxiety attacks the past few days and it isn't even an exaggeration. sorry for the depressive shit, this story is pretty damn depressing anyways. i love you all! like 200 reads, jesus fuck.

- s