I stand in my small, dimly lit apartment, staring at a blank canvas. I hear a light buzzing, flickering on and off, signaling its going to die soon. I shake my head in disgust. Such a short little life. I walk over to the lamp where the light bulb is. I switch the lamp off and unscrew the light bulb. "You had a good run little guy.", I say to the burnt out bulb. I walk into the kitchen and throw it into the trash bin. 'Life is just like this light bulb..', I thought to myself, 'short lived and pointless.' I grab another bulb from one of the wooden cabinets in the kitchen. I screw it into the lamp, flicking the switch back on, it sparks to life. I stretch myself out, groaning. 'I just don't understand anything. None of this makes any sense.' A blaring of a horn interrupts my thoughts. I walk over to the window and look down below. People hustle about, cars speed by, trucks try to get through the cramped streets. Everyone just goes on living, they go about their daily lives. Fetching coffee, running late to work, hailing taxi cabs. I lean against the window ledge, watching the people go by. "What's the point of always being in a hurry to please others?", I say out loud. As I watch them rush about, talking bumping into one another, I see a couple go past. My heart sinks to the bottom of my stomach. They're smiling and holding on to each other tightly. They look so happy together. I bet she'd do anything for him, just like Caroline would for me. I take a deep breath and let it out. She's going to be so mad at me, I thought to myself. I know she loves me so much, but I just can't so this anymore. I pull myself away from the window and head towards the kitchen. On my counter top sits a notepad and pen. I think for a second and then scribble out a note. The ink flows out of the pen as I write. In the note, I tell everyone how much I love them and how they shouldn't be sad. I wasn't going to be anything great anyway. I also tell them that I know i probably could've got help, but I didn't want it. I know there's nothing in this world for me and i am tired of feeling empty. I just can't go on living with no reason. With no purpose in life. I look the note over, some of the red ink smeared, I shrug. "Good enough.", I say to myself. I go to a drawer and slide it ope. I reach in and pull out a long sharp knife. I look at it, wondering what it will be like... the feeling to die. I close the drawer and sit down on the kitchen floor against the wood cabinets. The white tile is cold and smooth, sending goose bumps up my arms. I'm sorry about the mess Caroline. Caroline always hated the messes I'd leave all over. I would always tell her i would clean them up. But by the time I'd get home, the apartment would be spotless. I smirk a bit thinking about the last mess I had made for her. Even though it started out as a mess, it ended as one of my more happier moments in my life... The flashbacks went through my head. I was commissioned to paint a huge canvas and there was oil paint all over, she about lost it. She stood there, looking at me. She looked so cute, even though she was totally pissed. She had nothing but a baggy white t-shirt on and pink booty shorts, her mouth was wide open. I remembering laughing, "I promise i will clean it up.", I told her. She stood in the door way, her dirty blonde hair in a messy bun. She was in shock, mouth still open in disbelief. Then i took my paint brush and tapped it on her nose, leaving a glob of purple paint. I laughed at her with her new, cute purple nose. Then I stopped laughing, she glared at me, mouth no longer open, face no longer in shock. I thought she'd be so angry with the way she looked at me, it was like receiving the death glare. She stared at me for a few more moments. Her face changed an her lips started to twitch. "Oh, no don't cry.", I said to her with worry in my voice. "I will clean it up Care, I promise you.", I tell her grabbing her waist. She looked at me and hung her head. It was quite for only a second, then she burst into laughter. "Allen you never clean anything up!", she laughed. "You never give me a chance!", I start laughing with her. Just then she reached over me to my pallet. She stuck her fingers in to the paint and wiped he hand on my face. "Are you going to clean that up?!", she laughed, widening her big brown eyes. That night ended in a mess. We were covered from head to toe in oil paint. I returned to reality, looking at the knife in my hands. The light shined off the blade. I smirked, those were some of the funniest kisses I had. I chuckled a bit, but we had to buy new sheets afterwards. Oil paint does not come out of silk sheets. I thought of that memory, our bodies all tangled, the smell of oil paint lingering in the air. She looked so beautiful, oil paint covered every inch of her body. But I can't think of that right now. A tear ran down my cheek dripping on to the clean metal, "I love you...I'm sorry Caroline...", I mumble out loud. I raised the knife above my wrist, "I can't do this, anymore. I can't feel like this...", I say as I slit my left wrist first. The metal felt cool as I ran it over my skin, leaving a trail of warm blood behind. Then I did the same to my right wrist. I felt the blood slowly ran out, it felt so warm and nice. 'I know I told you I would try my best. I promised I wouldn't do anything like this.', I think to myself. I hear your voice in my head, "Just please, please don't do anything you would regret, don't do anything bad, I love you, so very much...", you say in your sweet voice. The words echo in my head. But this isn't something I regret. I am choosing to end it. Blood flowing down, I sat there, "No more. I'm done...", I said. "I love you, so very much...", I hear your voice echo in my head again. "I-I love you...", I say back to the empty, quite room. The last thing I remember is hearing her voice. I feel my eye lids grow heavy. "I love you, so very much...", I hear Caroline say again. I feel the blood start to pool around me. I close my eyes and then I start to drift off into the eternal darkness. Where It can finally be over...
YOU ARE READING
My Side of The Story
Teen FictionEven though it started out as a mess, it was one of the happier moments in my life… Allen is an artist that lives in Chicago, and deals with depression on a regular. But he has finally had enough. "Life isn't worth living without a reason, and i don...