Ruthless

Chapter Nine

Winter
19 years old

Suicide.

"Sunset orange flames and yellow insides. I cower beneath your beauty. I will never achieve you.

I'm sorry for hurting you. God knows it was never my intention.

Hair in loose curls, it's how I look best, though I know it's still terrible.

I close my eyes and see your face, Grandad, and I know you'd be proud of me. God through those 15 attempts you watched me suffer, and I cry for you now. I cry for my mother who would find me dead, not anymore, as I hide away in this dorm bed. I cry for my roommate who would come home to my still body. Free tuition right? I cry for my father in just finding out I was raped, and I cry for those that hurt me because you'd think it was your fault. It was a choice. My choice. I cry for my internship I'd never fulfill and I'd cry for that pretty, brown skinned girl with bright brown eyes that couldn't wait to grow up, and I cry for every time she was molested. I cry for my best friends, and everyone that was ever here. I cry for my newest friend who cries because I am no longer around to keep him sane. And lastly I cry for you, all of you beautiful angels battling anorexia and bulimia and ednos and everything else because it'll always take a little piece of you and you never deserved it.
I finally learned to love you. And I'm sorry."

This is the note I wrote last night as I took 1.5 times the max dosage of sleeping pills used to drown out the nightmares.

She doesn't love me anymore, not after my final fuck up. I love her so much, and she means the world to me, as every best friend does, but I'm so over it. I wanted to die. I wanted to take my life to give it to her, so she'd stop having to deal with me. So she'd stop having to be my friend and have it hurt her in the long run. All I do is hurt people.

Mom, I'm so sorry. I never wanted to take myself from you, and this was my 16th attempt, and I'm so sorry.