My Last Suicide Attempt

Hospital... Happy or Sad?

Once we got to the hospital, we were in the waiting room, waiting to hear some sort of news on Mom. The doctor came out and talked to my dad. He didn't break down. He just nodded his head so I took this as a good sign.

He walked over to me and sat down. He heaved out a sigh "She'll be okay."

I looked at him "Can we see her yet?"

"Tomorrow after school, now let's get you home."

Of course he was still going to make me go to school. I didn't want to but I guess I'll go anyways. Once we got back to the house I took a nice long cold shower. I know it's odd but cold showers help me calm down. I went to my room and got out my blade and started to cut open my skin again.

I did a lot more than usual, I couldn’t' help it. It's hard to wake up to that.

Once, the bleeding stoped I looked at them time. Knowing my dad will either be asleep or just not in the mood, I got ready for school throwing my black hair up into a ponytail heading out the door to catch my bus.

I made my way to dreadful school, today was even more unbearable than the rest of them. I kept checking the clock. I could hear the people talking about me. I knew the rumours had spread. I had a few people talk to me too. I talked with them and gave them advice. It felt weird at first, to have people talking to me at first but I got used to it.

I mostly just waited for the second to pass by until I could finally go to the hospital and see Mom. I was scared. Nobody told me what happened...

Finally school had ended and I went outside and got into the truck. Everything was silent and tense. It made me panic and feel like I was suffocating.

I never understand how everything can go so wrong, people talked to me all day I never showed emotion. I think Natasha knew something was off but I can’t be sure. I didn't really care enough about anybody to do anything about it and notice anything. All I cared about right now is how my mother was doing. She doesn't deserve this.

The drive back to the hospital was torturous and annoying. I couldn't wait till I could finally see if she was okay. I know I was planning on killing myself tonight but they need me right now. I am going to be there for them.

When we got there, I walked behind my dad as he took us up to her room. In a way I was excited to see my mom but on the other hand I was deathly afraid.

Second floor room 204, I gulped before I stepped into the room

I absolutely hate hospital, the place terrifies me half to death. It reminds me of death, pain and torture. I know that even though this is the place where a lot of lives are created and where miracles happen. I can't get over the fact of how frightening being enclosed in a sterile room with strangers aground you and the other strangers who say they are going to help and you are going to be fine. I don't like doctors.

I kind of have a phobia of doctors, dentists, nurses, hospitals and tall building amongst other things as well.

When we got in the room, I couldn't help but gape at her. She looked so sick even though not even 24 hours ago she looked perfectly fine. But I guess that's what happens some times.

It seemed like we were there for hours while we all talked and stuff. I know it's sad but it's the most that they have every talked to me in a long, long time.

We had to go home after a while because the visiting hours were over and the nurse kicked us out. I'm glad it's finally the weekend that means I don't have to deal with anything for a few days while I try to find a different day to die.

I know everybody thinks things like this are selfish but I don't I find it as my escape, as my freedom and a statement. A statement that will hurt and a lot of people are close to suicide don’t do it. If I am the one who does it then nobody else will have to.

Once we got home dad told me that she will be coming home tomorrow. She was in a lot of pain as she was passing kidney stones and in the process put too much strain on her heart and had a mild heart attack. Yeah, if heart attacks can be mild.

Then he went to work and I ventured up to my room

One cut, two cuts, three cuts, four cuts, five cuts, six cuts, seven cuts.

Shit!

I ran to the bathroom to wash the blood down the drain. The first five were not very deep and I want them to fade. I didn't notice how deep they started going. It’s not bad enough to seek medical attention but I had to bandage them up real well for it to be good and not bleed very long. I should know, I’ve been doing this for a long time. Its sounds bad but it is true.

I decided to just go lay down on my bed and let my mind spiral through a thousand thoughts a second and hope that time flies and I'll be ready to die.