Ella's P.O.V.
I walked for a really long time just thinking about what I was about to do.
"No regrets." I told myself as I walked up to what looked like an abandoned park.
There was no one there which was great. No cars ever drove by. It was sketchy as fuck and I know that if anyone was here it would be a homeless man doing heroin.
I looked around and immediately saw the place I was going to do it.
It was a huge tree thats branches hung very low. It was actually quite beautiful in an eery way. It was probably full of needles but I was going to die anyway. Why not accidently to heroin?
I walked over to the tree and sat down and took out my note and set it by my side. I started thinking again, but this time not thinking of what I was about to do, but thinking about my life. Everything that happened.
I think there was only 1 time in my life that I was truly happy and enjoyed life. And it was Marisa.
Back in New Jersey Marisa was my only friend, but like I said before, she didn't stay. Anyway she was just amazing. I spent all the time I could with her because I felt like she was the only one that understood me. The only person I could tell everything to that would understand and give me genuinely good advice I could use. She was also like me.
Not in the fucked up aspect of me but my opnions on things and the bands I liked.
I think the best part of our friendship was that she would send me her poems. She was the most amazing writer and everyday she would send me a different poem. My favorite one went like this:
"They crawled into my mind and spun a beautiful, intricate, twisted web that only a craftsmen could appreciate, because all spiders are foul creatures right?
They clutter the night time streets with trash and vulgarity, roaming alleys like rats and never thinking twice about who they're trashing next, and I swear one of them bit me yesterday.
I can feel the poison spreading through my veins with every venomous word you spit in my direction, every dagger you've been trained to throw at my head, because a killing blow is all you really desire in life.
Ignorance is bliss, you say, but how ignorant can you be without happiness? Because we are sick and tired of being told the same old thing, everyday we fling poisoness words around like pebbles, we smoke and drink and dirty ourselves without thinking ahead, we throw our middle fingers up to strangers we meet on clouded streets and we roam alleys unknown to heaven itself. And we do all this, because we're bored.
We're bored because we had been fed information for years, but non of it has been proven to be true, no matter what.
We scream and shout, but none of it is heard, because we are drowned out by the voices in our minds, So we scream at the sky, and we lose interest.
We must learn to bite at the hand that throws plagues at us without looking into our eyes, and you fail to notice that the ink stained on our wrists and shoulders is the same ink that clouds your thoughts, enveloped in a haze, corrupted by the same trash we kick around for fun in the streets on rainy nights, we're very different, you and I, but alike in a way that we are both chained.
Lets have fun, lets teach ourselves to be happy again, just like before.
Lets let go of the chains that bind us down. Lets let go of the rope tied to the tree. Lets be free at last."
"We may not be free together." I whispered barely audible.
"But at least you will be free of me, and I will be free of myself."
I put the gun to my head.
