That's it. I'm done. I'm tired of this I can't do it anymore.
Me: I keep your help. Message me soon please?
I texted Anna I wondered if she would care to even respond. If she doesn't in two hours I'm going to do it. I already stole the pills. I'm ready to die. I want to be with my baby. I'm done feeling guilty.
••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• •••
Two hours later I'm gulping down dozens and dozens of pills. I'm no longer crying. I've moved on from that. Everything is getting blurry and I quickly send a text to Anna reading "I'm sorry" I hit the send button and then everything goes black as I feel my head hit the bathroom floor and someone's knocking on the door. Then I hear sirens.
YOU ARE READING
March 6th
Teen FictionLeanah Willyemz, a sixteen year old tells how she prepares for the biggest dedication of her life. Go or no go? Deal or no deal?
