Chapter Fifteen:
I slide the knife through the pale, slightly wrinkled skin over my kneecap and watch. Once the blade leaves my skin, it takes a few moments for the blood to well up. The cuts seem to be shallower and shallower, almost like I'm losing my will to die.I can't be losing my touch.
I have waited for so long to kill myself. It is in my daydreams. It is in my prayers. The fact that all of my time had been spent wishing for the moment that I could come into contact with the rocks below the surface. And now, it seemed, I was giving up on my dream. It was heartbreaking.
I had nothing to live for and yet I still clung on to life. I was disgusted with myself.
One week until Christmas break would start. I was looking forward to it and I hated the fact that it brought enjoyment into my life. My life was horrible. Nobody loved me.
Not Mum. Not Dad. Not Noah. Not anyone. I was utterly alone. But I continued to live on. To keep myself on track, I set myself a deadline.
Haha. Dead line. Bad pun.
On New Year's Eve I was going to kill myself. I would end the year at the same time that I would end my life. It seemed perfectly symbolic, to me. Even with all this recent confusion of feelings and whirlwinds of emotions whipping around inside of me, I was anticipating the moment that my skin would hit the bitterly cold water.
I wanted to feel the chill.
I wanted to feel the turbulence of the current.
I want to feel the goosebumps rise on my skin.
I want to be washed away.
I want the end to be beautiful.
I've always admired beautiful things and the end of my life will be positively breathtaking.
Literally.
My demise will take my last vestiges of breath out of my lungs.
YOU ARE READING
Thirteen
Teen FictionShe's waiting for the day when she can sink the knife a little deeper, throw herself down a little farther. She is tired. She wants rest. She is waiting. He's waiting for the day when his stomach shrinks into nothingness, until he can take his last...
