Madison Kate Morris.
I signed my new name in small cursive letters and handed the legal document over to the older woman in front of me. She pressed a red legal stamp over the page and gave me a cheesy smile.
I simply nodded and left, getting into my beat up car, and headed home. My hands were shaking as I gripped the wheel.
I had always hated the name my parents gave me. It was too girly. Isabella. It never fit me. Kids in elementary school would call me Dizzy Izzy because I was a clumsy kid. One time while I was running around at recess, I ran into a wall. Not just any wall though, the school. I literally ran into the outer brick wall of my school. How does that even happen?
I've finally changed my name though, and now, I would be known as Maddie. It wasn't perfect, but it fit me a lot better than 'Izzy'.
To be honest, there's a much more complicated reason for me changing my name, but we'll get into that in a bit.
I pulled into a small parking lot and turned off my car. I locked it and went inside of the small apartment complex. It was a bit run down but it was all I could afford right now.
I was emancipated when I was 16. I had a steady job and my parents trusted me enough to be on my own. That was their mistake though. My boss got harder on me after I dropped out of school. I was working almost all day every day and I couldn't take it anymore.
I quit my job 3 weeks ago. I still haven't told my parents though. They would say I'm irresponsible. My life has pretty much gone downhill from there.
Also, if you're sensitive to the topic of suicide and self harm, I would stop reading now and go find a PG-13 book to read. (It's referenced pretty heavily throughout this story)
My parents had always expected me to do great things with my life. After I dropped out of high school, I couldn't even stand to be around them. They were constantly telling me to go back to school and how I would get nowhere in life without at least a high school education. Of course, I didn't care about anything like that.
I began to ignore their phone calls and texts. Once, they even sent the police to my apartment to make sure I was still alive.
It's been a couple weeks since then though. I wanna put some distance between myself and my family. That way, they won't miss me as much.
I pulled my keys out of my pocket and unlocked the door to my small apartment. I went inside, not bothering to lock the door. I went straight to my bathroom and began running the bath water. Then I went back to my bedroom, making sure my bed was made and things were clean.
To address our earlier topic of why I changed my name, I guess I'll just be blunt about it. I am planning to kill myself. Tonight. A name change will make it harder for someone to come looking for me or find me. Especially my family.
I picked up a brush and brushed through my straight black hair. I should've donated it or something. It's definitely long enough. I'm not really concerned about my looks anymore anyway.
After I quit my job, I spent the last of my money changing my name. It really was now or never. I was determined. Nobody was left to stop me. I didn't have any friends and nobody knew about this. This was going to be my last night.
I walked over to my record player and ran my fingers over the smooth leather case before opening it up. I picked up a record that I had been saving specially for today. I carefully set it down into the player and turned it on, letting the needle dance on the record, feeling all of its grooves and singing it's song.
I then pulled a slender box out from under my pillow and opened it, pulling out a small box cutter. I ran my finger over its sharp tongue and watched the blood trickle down my finger and my hand. It was such a pretty color. I wanted to be covered in it.
I held the tool firmly in my hand and walked back into the bathroom, seeing that the tub was almost overflowing by now. I didn't care. I took one last look in the mirror and stepped into the tub, letting the water spill out onto the floor as I sat down.
The water was warm. Comforting. I shut the tap off and laid back, letting the water surround me. It covered my body like a blanket. I closed my eyes.
I let my mind drift and dream about what it would be like. Slipping into death like falling asleep. Only, forever.
I slowly opened my eyes again and looked over to the door of the bathroom to see someone standing there. It was someone I didn't recognize. They wore a white hoodie and black jeans. It was a boy.
He had extremely black hair. More black than mine. His skin, upon closer inspection was snowy white, or maybe that was just the shitty lighting.
His face is what stood out the most about him though. His eyes were dark. I mean his eyes themselves were blue but the area surrounding his eyes were as black as coal. It was very unnatural. That, and so was his smile. His lips themselves were a bit bloodshot but for the most part, normal. His cheeks though, had been sliced into, as if to create the illusion that he was always smiling. It clearly never healed properly. There was dried blood surrounding the Cheshire wound. That couldn't have felt good.
I simply stared at the boy. I didn't sit up. I didn't panic. I didn't react at all actually. I just stared at him. The box cutter hung loosely in my hand.
The boy stood there with his arms crossed, he held something in his hand that I couldn't see very well. It looked a bit metallic.
We both stared at each other for a couple minutes, unsure of what to do or say.
After a while, he broke the silence first, with a surprisingly deep voice for what seemed to be a teenage boy.
"Are you taking a bath with your clothes on?"
