the 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝘿𝙎 of the 𝘾𝙇𝙊𝙒𝙉

「 four 」

Was it really meant to die? Why did people like death so much?

The same as I . . . why do I like the idea of death a lot?

If you wanted to die, go ahead and die . . . No one would really care, anyway.

When I felt like I wanted to die, I wouldn't eat for a whole day or two; yet when I wanted to be alive, I would eat with all my heart's extent . . . until my stomach would get hurt so much.

I would also secretly grab some blades and and locked myself in the bathroom, thinking of cutting myself. But I wouldn't cut myself, though . . . It would be a pain to leave scars that people would see. Then, I has no choice but sit down on the floor, the blade on my hand, staring at it as if it was one of the most beautiful human-creations existed.

Ah . . . There was also a time that I would like to intake a drink with dissolved hypertension medication, hypotension medication, and sleeping pills, because I thought that it was more comfortable to die that way. And when I was about to swallow the drugs up, I sensed thousands of eyes staring at me. Then I soon realised that my dolls were looking at me.

And I felt bad . . . I didn't want them to see me killing myself. Well, I had thought that it would be an unsightly image for my dolls to see me dying. We were family, though. I had no choice . . . Maybe, I could still bear it.

The second attempt was happened on a bright shiny day. I was on a rooftop of a high-rise building. If I would jump from here, it could lead me to an instant death. What was more amazing to that thought was that even for a mean time, I would experience what flying felt like. There was a mystic force that seduced to me jump and it really, really drawn me to do it.

And when I was about to jump, someone came to the rooftop and prevented me to do another suicide attempt. It would be a shame if someone saw me. I wanted to die alone.

Another attempt happened when we had a class retreat. The place we went was a beach near valleys. The place was very beautiful . . . so beautiful that it triggered my emotions. The scenic views was too peaceful for a dysfunctional person like me.

And even so it came, before the sun cracked on the horizon, I snuck out of our room and decided to perform my suicide. The setting was on a valley and I was climbing up to reach where the cliff was located.

I had a sad music and kind of epic-ish music on my earphones while walking. It could help me to mood myself up. The whole surrounding was gloomy as the sky covered with grey clouds, very misty but it smelled life—the breeze that you could inhale during daytime after a rainy night.

I was just walking . . . walking, until I reached a cliff. Rocky cliff that could lead into an instant death.

I had to jump . . . And yet I couldn't. I realised that this place was too pure and heavenly and I didn't want to taint it with my disgusting and undesirable quality of my blood.

Rejected by my own thoughts, I went back to our lounge.

I kept on saying that I wanted to die, but really . . . It really, really got me so scared. Attempting a suicide had never been that easy. It took a lot of bravery and courage to do it.

I was scared all the time; I felt weak every single time . . . What if I would be braver? What if I would be stronger? Then I should be dead right now.

I wouldn't say that I am insane, for I hadn't went to a mental hospital or visited a psychiatrist or something.

All that was left within me was hatred. I wished I could just die. I wished someone will kill me. I wished I would just disappear. I wanted to die. Please don't let me live. I wished I was never born.