Aesthetic short stories

Suicidal sleep

I stagger through the door, loosely holding my whiskey bottle in my hand. My vision is all blurry, and my body feels so heavy. I drink another sip, but nothing comes out. I yell at the bottle slurring my words, and throw it across the room hitting the wall.

I stagger down the hallway, hitting the wall drunkenly. I reach my bedroom, and i immediately fall onto my bed.

The event's that led me to this are all soggy, i can't seem to rack my brain for the lost memories that made me do this. Im not a heavy drinker, and this isn't something I'd usually do.

I felt tears brink my eyes and they dripped down without stopping.

I didn't know why i was crying, i wasn't sad, and i felt fine.

But for some reason, i wanted to sob my eyes out and curl up and just...

Disappear.

I arose from my bed going toward the bathroom. I take a good long look at myself in the mirror, and i notice how ugly i was. I noticed how my lips were thin, my eyes big, and the bags that drooped down under them. The acne multiplying day by day, and how my hair was a ugly brown. More tears escaped my eyes as i run out of the bathroom to the kitchen.

My lighter was on the counter, and a pack of cigarettes. I grab the 2 things and sit on the couch, taking a cig out and lighting it up.

I take a long smoke in, exhaling it all out. Purple fumes coloring the air. I sit back, and watch it all spread out, wrapping around my legs and torso.

It lingers up to my chest, and around my neck, tighting. I choke, and it rises up to the ceiling, hooking onto nothing. I rise up and choke in mid air, as if this smoke wanted to kill me. Tears were dripping down, and i muster a smile.

Let it kill me.

It tightens more, and my air circulation is slowly dying.

Just take my breath away and let me die

If i die, i won't have to deal with the trouble some life i live now. And it would be for the better of everyone...

I close my eyes, and i can just feel my face go numb, along with the rest of my body.

Then i wake up.