I Want To Live

Chapter 1

  I've got to have faith. I've got to. My knuckles are white against the steering wheel.

  I blink back tears. Another rejection. Today, no less. I thought they would like my music. They just said, 'you're the typical teenage girl. Probably a dropout. Give up.'

  This is a hard business. I pulled over and scream. I should just give up. I should just stop. Just end it all.

  It was hot out, but I wore long sleeves. Under those sleeves, there's a scar for every rejection. The newest one is a week old. Still scabby. I roll up my sleeve and examine it. The scab was falling off, leaving yet another scar.

  I pick off the rest of it. The white line underneath matches the rest going down my forearm. I wipe my tears away, leaving my cheeks damp. I open a compartment under my armrest. I grabbed the pocket knife that's there, and is there no matter what. There's a deep pain in my chest.

  I must distract myself.

  I line up the knife. I keep it so sharp that a trickle of blood already leaks out of the cut. I push deeper.

  I'm dancing with suicide.

  The pain soon becomes unbearable. I cry out and lift the knife. I automatically reach for the first aid kit I keep in the compartment with my knife.

  I carefully put on a giant band-aid and wipe my arm with a Kleenex. The tears came again. I wipe off the knife and put it back in the compartment. As I closed the compartment, I realize I don't have to be like this.

  I don't have to be alive.

  I open my car door as a car was this past me. I slammed the door shut.

  Last chance.

  Do I really want to do this?

  Yes.

  As a car speeds down the highway I spy a man texting inside. Before I could rethink this, I jump.

  And then there is darkness.

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