What Happens When We Die

Untitled Part 1

I don't want my mom to be the one to find me. I keep repeating it in my head. I could do it here. Leave my dead body in the place I grew up in, surrounded by every single thought I left in my room that led up to this moment. But my mother. I never much liked her, but I am not yet so dead inside that I would not only let a mother bury her own daughter, but find her, lifeless and still, hanging or bleeding or shot or whatever end I choose. I love the way that sounds. The end I choose.

I had it all planned out:

Scene 1:

Girl, 14, has become tired of living and is ready to die. She decides the best way is to hang herself off of a tree in her yard. She ties the noose just like how the Youtube tutorial taught her, and wraps it around one of the branches. She places the loop around her neck and tries to think of last words to say. The girl realizes it does not matter because no one is there to hear it, so she stops wasting time and jumps. She feels the slow, sweet burn of death around her neck, and after, hangs like a blue-faced jackolantern, still smiling. Someone comes outside and finds the dead girl; she is buried and her soul rests easy.

(end of scene 1)

I now realize that I don't want any member of my family to find me, and would rather have someone I don't care about as much find me. Hopefully finding a dead girl will fuck them up so much that they'll actually start thinking about things that actually matter and spiral into the oblivion that we call depression and numbness and suicide and then they can end up Just Like Me.

That was a joke of course, but it do like the idea of someone from my school finding me. Then my parents can't pretend that it wasn't suicide and people will see the people in my family for what they really are: a bunch of liars.

I think I'm drawing this out too much.

I should just slit my wrists, go to school, and find a nice, peaceful place to slowly bleed out. I know tons of places in my school where no one goes. I used to sit with all of The Friends and "laugh" with The Friends and hang out with The Friends but I would rather be the girl who sits alone at lunch than the girl who's Well Known and Liked and hangs out with people just so that she has someone to sit with. I used to be that girl. A lot can happen in a few months. I mean it's not that anything drastic happened. My depression hit me like a truck when I was doing really well for the millionth time and this time I couldn't just suck it up and do the Smile, Hug, Chat act that I usually did. I was fucking tired. So I started forming my plan in my head and it boiled and simmered inside of me while I endured meaningless hours of school and finally I reached a point where death sounded like the better option. Now, keep in mind, I am an Atheist. I believe that death is nothing more than a cease of existence, and that still sounds like the better option. Like I said, I'm Really Fucking Tired.

So now, I just have to decide if I am going to slit my wrists at home or at school. If I do it at home, I will have to worry about bleeding so much in the car that I pass out. I mean of course I'll have a hoodie on and bandages and my mom won't be talking to me and I'll just hold my wrists until I get out, but passing out would be very obvious if I do say so myself.

On the other hand, if I do it at school, someone might see me and stop me and I'll have to do the Mandatory 72 Hour Hold which does not sound like much fun.

Oh well. At school is less risky because when I pass out I'll be alone already and I can guarantee it, which I cannot do with the other option.

At school it is then.

I grab my thickest, sharpest blade and wrap some material from a shirt that I cut around it.

Then I did my hair.