Hurting.

My past, your present, your future.

She didn't mean to,
She never meant to hurt them,
She never meant to destroy her family,
She was only supposed to destroy herself.

Her family stood round the hole in the ground, the one where she would never move from. Slowly decomposing six feet below her family and friends.

Days passed, months, years.

The pain in there hearts never shrank, never diminished. Forever growing, because the need for their girl back grew every minute, like the black emptiness inside of them, growing like a tumour, spreading through their lungs, heart, liver.

And slowly but surely, the day came that they would meet her, down below or up above, no one would know, because no one really knew her, she was always good- never bad or rude. Always seemed fine, and happy with life. But they quite obviously got that wrong; so just maybe, she was bad, maybe she used her body, maybe she used her mind.

She never took drugs- too scared of the affects, she smoked once, but couldn't handle the foul smell and taste, but also the feeling of tar filling her already broken body.

Drinking was an escape, but being sensible she never reached the point where she was vulnerable, she always took it well: Cider, vodka, ale... nothing affected her worse than the crushing pain of the inevitable depression and death that she would face, but she would rather die young, that live another twenty seconds in this horrible and ugly universe.

She found a guy, okay looking, not a bad personality, but soon enough he left. Not thinking about her, he found someone better, skinnier, prettier, not insecure, not suicidal. "Baby, it's not you...it's your brain...you're so fucked up, I can't deal with it, no one wants you."

So, she sat at her desk, scribed her last notes and words, slowly pouring out onto the paper the ink, but also her tears, and the blood from her careful and deep incisions on her wrists, aching as she wrote her last words, signing the paper with her blood and tears.

She stood on the stool, that creaked under her weight, making her feel even worse about her weight and size, she slowly fastened the rough rope around her small and fragile neck, her heart raced and the cuts ached as her mascara ran down her beautiful face and cheek bones. She kicked and within seconds, one less person on the earth.

The truth is that, she wasn't fat, she wasn't ugly, or even too hard to handle, the people around her were the ones in the wrong.

Now her thin anorexic and slightly anaemic body hung from the rough rope, tight around her small neck, the mascara still running, with it taking the layers of foundation and concealer.

By the way, I'm sorry it's in the female gender, I know males also go through struggles of mental health and suicide. I'm not trying to offend anyone.
I hope you Know that I am always here for you. No matter who you are.