Saying Goodbye

The beginning of the end

If you have read the title. Then you know that this is goodbye. Then you know, that my time is over. Then you know, I gave up. Then you know, that this is a letter. The letter, I wrote for you. To say my last few words. Before I take my life.

The metal is cold against my skin. The sharp edge nicks into it barely a half inch deep before blood starts to drip down my arm. I've done this before. Just not like this. Not the other way, the way that the doctors just can't stitch up. This is the way to say it's over because no one noticed when I screamed for help. Nobody cared when I needed them. Nobody listened when I was so silent, that all they could hear is the pain of the whisper on my breath that barely crosses my lips. Tears. Tears should fall. The tears should stream down my face but nothing comes out. The sorrow I wear is just a blank face. 

I begin to try to guilt myself out of it, but I've said it all before. I have nothing to be guilty about. My life is sad, I'm lonely, and no one loves me. No one would miss me. I live alone with two parents who are barely in love. They were together since kids but the dad became two-parts drinking and the rest explains itself. The mom became abusive, abusive to herself with the smoke she poured down her lungs. I'm a junior in high school, this year was the first year without my sister. Shes gone, shes not coming home anymore.

My sister isn't coming home late at night out drinking with her friends, and driving recklessly with no care. She was different before, she was so beautiful and young, but her troubles caught up to her and she lost the glow in her cheeks. Her eyes became sunken and her lips became thin. One night just like most night she went out with her friends, but this night she didn't come home to tuck me in and give me a kiss goodnight. When she comes home she will lay down next to me and I will put my blanket over her and run my fingers through her hair. When she comes home she will tell me she loves me and then tell me goodnight. This time she didn't come home. I was 15 and she would have been 18. She said she was an adult now, but to me she was still a kid.

My mom lost her will, her will to keep going. She lost her job, she lost her child, she lost her little girl. Then I never mattered. She was always asleep. When shes asleep she isn't crying. Dad, where are you? Mom needs you. Dad, come home. Mom's crying again, where are you? Dad comes home late at night with the smell of hard liquor on his tongue and the smell of another woman's perfume on his clothes. Dad doesn't love mom anymore, dad loves someone else. 

The blade presses deeper, harder. The blood pouring heavy, faster. Pull don't push. Don't push away what is already gone. Everyone is gone, nobody loves me, nobody cares. Don't push in the pull door, the pull door at the movie theater that me and my sister used to go to. She always had money but she didn't have a job. I never asked her where she got it because she would always say "it's not important." We would go in and buy the salty buttered popcorn and the to-expensive soda. We would laugh the whole time until her phone would buzz in her pocket and she would get that look on her face. 

I miss those days when nothing really mattered because she was there, so everything was ok. She would drive me home and we would blast the radio to our favorite songs. Everything was ok. We pulled up in the drive way and mom and dad are yelling again. They do that a lot so I just go to my room and then hide under the covers until someone slams the door, and then its quiet. But the door doesn't open again.

I like to pretend shes still alive, because I miss her. I wear the clothes she left behind in her closet. Her room is still here and it smells like her. The sweet smell of the vanilla she wore. Her sheets are still wrinkled in the form that she left them. The picture on her dresser of us as a family reminds me of what I used to have. One day she will come back, and everything will be ok. Except she didn't come back. I wait for her, I cry out her name but all I get is the echo of the voice to the person I lost.

Pull, I pull the blade farther up my arm, the water turns red, the taste fills my mouth and my body starts to shake. I want to kiss my mom goodbye, she doesn't deserve any of this. She was my hero, she stood up to dad when he wanted to leave. She was so brave. Mom, I'm sorry. Mom, I love you. Mom, where are you? Mom, it hurts. Mom, please save me. Mom, save me. Mom, I let you down again. Mom, I'm sorry. Mom never comes, because mom is asleep downstairs in her bed. Dad is out late again, I won't see him again.

I wish it didn't have to be like this, I wish it was like how it used to be.I wish we could have been happy again. I wish the pain would go away. And it does. My body becomes light, and my breath begins to slip. Three. Short. Breaths. Before it is the last. My breath becomes a whisper, my eyes can't focus. Everything is getting darker. Everything is over now. It's the beginning of the end. And I'm saying goodbye.