That point in life when you're just ready to end everything. I was going through it at such a young age. Seventeen years old and ready to die. You shouldn't be so young and so sad. I ran my fingers through my unruly, plain brown hair, pulling it into a sloppy bun.
I didn't even change out of my pajamas that day. I just wanted to be done with it. School, home, life in general. I didn't find a point in me living anymore. I wasn't happy. Why should I keep going if I wasn't happy?
The walk to school always was my favorite part of my day. Alone, walking in the middle of nowhere until I make it to school, always early. The walk was peaceful. I passed a total thirty one trees. I sat at a table in the cafeteria and waited for a while until kids filled the room, everyone ready for the bell to ring already.
Minutes went by slow when you were alone, but it was okay. No one talked to me.
I had a reputation as a slut at this school.
One mistake caused that. One boy was made mad because I refused to sleep with him. He and some of his friends said I had sex with them. Seperately, of course. No matter how much I denied it though, no one listened. Jokes on them. I ended up having sex with a guy the next town over one night.
Some girl came up to me as the clock hit eight.
Twelve more minutes. Waiting. Watching everything and nothing at the same time.
"You had sex with my boyfriend? Dumb slut!" Her voice was high pitched and annoying. I opened my mouth to say something but when I did she grabbed my head and slammed it against the table. My head started throbbing when I stood up.
"Why the hell would I want your nasty sloppy seconds?" I couldn't stop myself before I lunged at her. I didn't know exactly what I was doing until I realized pieces of her hair were in my hands. I was done with it all. I was just fighting at this point. Swinging, scratching. One of the girls friends tried to pull me off of her but I didn't give up until I saw blood. I wiped my hands on my sweat pants and walked out of the school. I knew I would be in trouble but at this point, I didn't care. It'd be over soon. When it did, we both stood up, pulled apart by two football players.
"You're a freak! A freak who nobody wants," she pointed to my exposed wrists.
"Except your boyfriend, obviously." I said, with a mischiveous grin.
"Bitch!" She threw a punch that narrowly missed me. I got one last hit before walking home. No one followed me.
The walk back home turned into a run. I had to get home soon, before my mom did. I left my backpack at school. It wasn't like I'd need it anytime soon. When I walked into the door, I ran around the house, checking rooms. She wasn't home yet. I searched under my bed for the bottle of pills I'd bought from some stoner kid at school and grabbed the note. I read over it, making sure everything was okay.
It's stupid of me to stay here. I love you, mom. Thank you for everything, I am just not happy. Don't forget me. Don't miss me. I'm happy now that I am gone. Remember that.
It wasn't anything special, just a small goodbye to my mother. My father was never mentioned in it because I didn't know him.
I took my shirt off, exposing every rib. Turning around, I looked in the mirror at my back. My spine showed through my papery skin. I'd reached my goal weight and kept going, slowly becoming nothing but a shell of a girl who hadn't been happy since she was fourteen years old. I turned the insides of my arms towards the mirror, fully exposing my mutilated arms. Scars everywhere. Faded butterflies that failed to stop me from self harming.
Next came off my sweat pants, I looked at the words on my thighs. Slut, whore, joke, worthless, cunt, bitch, fat, ugly, not needed, go die, starve, nobody wants the unloved. Many of my scars had faded over the years. Three years of hating myself. Three years of the scissors, razors, lighters, pins, metal scraps, anything.
My hip bones jutted out perfectly. Every girl who tracks the thinspo tag on Tumblr would be jealous. My thigh gap was perfect, my legs were small and looked like they'd break in an instant. My bra and panties came off next.
I have many, many secrets. I thought about them all as I started swallowing pills.
I am not a virgin. I have a blog. I am bisexual. I stole cookies all the time when I was younger. I was the chubby friend no one really liked. I enjoy smoking pot and I tried Meth in the tenth grade. I had sex for money. I had a stash of alcohol hidden under my bed. I have planned my suicide every year on my birthday. I had tried it three times but never succeeded. They all went by unnoticed. This was going to work today. I cheated on my last three math tests. I snuck out several times to hang out with random college kids. I stole money from my mom to buy some weed and my pills. I never cared for my mother's cooking.
One. Two. I eased into the water. Twenty five. Thirty seven. Sixty four.
Mom. I am sorry. I can't go on. I am not happy.
I can't see hardly anymore, Mom... It is all blurry.
Why can't I focus, Mom?
Mom, I am all tingly. I can't move anymore. When I pass out, I won't wake up. I will be underwater. I will drown. I am not happy, Mom.
My eyes are drooping. It's time to sleep. I'm ready to go now, Mom. I'll miss you. I love you. It's going to get better. I'm sorry for everything.
I felt myself slip under the warm water.
Then I felt absolutely nothing ever again.
