I had a dream.
It felt so real.
So realistic.
So many details.
So many bad things happened.
I got raped.
By a group of huge men dressed in black.
I was so scared.
Not scared...terrified.
I thought I was gonna die.
I felt so disgusting.
So used.
So vulnerable.
My clothes were ripped off.
I felt soooooo nasty.
They let me go but I couldn't help but not know where to go.
Who to tell.
Or if I should even say anything.
I was so embarrassed.
So scared.
I went home.
No one was home.
I felt like I should kill myself.
So that's exactly what I tried.
I tried to find a knife or a razor.
I found a pocket knife.
And a bottle of pills.
Hydrocodone.
A low dosage but knew if I took a few it would work.
I took three.
Then five.
Then I slit my wrists a few times.
Blood was everywhere.
Tears were running down my face.
I was shaking.
I took three more pills.
I slit my thighs a few times.
I was becoming weak.
I was losing a lot of blood.
I ran some bath water.
I sat in the bathtub in my shorts and a bra.
I slit my wrists a few more times.
The bath water started turning red from the blood.
I then took the last 6 pills.
That's when everything turned black.
I thought I was dead.
I thought I had finally took my own life.
I heard ppl around me.
She was crying.
My best friend.
I heard her.
I couldn't see her.
I couldn't move.
I couldn't talk.
I couldn't do anything.
I heard the doctor say I was in a coma.
I heard my family whispering as they were crying.
But what really stood out was my best friend asking me to wake up.
Asking me to just open my eyes.
To wake up and talk to her.
Asking me to squeeze her hand if I could hear her.
I could hear her but I couldn't squeeze her hand.
I tried.
I tried so hard.
But I couldn't.
Next thing I know monitors started beeping.
Then everything went away.
My heart stopped.
I was dead.
Gone.
