Becoming happy

The day of

Today is the day it marks the year of my wise fathers and my twin brother's death.

This day, a year ago ,when I lost my second half and my extraordinary dad.

The day ,a year ago, when a huge truck decided to run a red light and slam against the car in which held my two best friends ;My brother and dad .

The first day I felt as if I had nothing.

At seventeen years young I am alarmingly-depressed , but no one cares to fucking notice. Not even my own fucking mother.

It's like I'm screaming but no one can hear me. It's like I'm deaf ,but I can't speak ,

It tore me up just thinking that my dad and my brother were gone.

Just even thinking I couldn't tease my brother or I could never be teased again by him. I swear I can still hear their booming laughs echoing through the cream halls when they picked on me . Their casual bickering that once in a while my mom and I would bud into .

My brother's witty comebacks ring through my head every day, and I wish they didn't.

I get cruel nightmares every night in which leads to panic attacks happening over and over again . The images always float through my mind so I try not to sleep too often.

I wish they were still here but as my dad always said ,
"Not all wishes can be true , love."

I saw my black and bulky Nikon camera and thought ;

"Why not spend the last few hours on earth doing what I love most ?"

And so I did, seeing as how the day was horrifyingly beautiful.

I live on an island. Where it's warm but lonely - for me at least . My brother loved it here as did everyone else , but he had a special love for the island .

That love and the memory of his strong love made it even more hard waking up in the morning.

I live on Honolulu , a tropical island by the main-land, Hawaii.

When I decided against the idea of showering,
I slipped on some ripped,black jeans and a maroon tank-top over my black bra and undies. I grabbed my bracelets to cover my fore-arm fresh cuts and scars. I made sure to cover up my scars on my tummy and my upper thighs.

Putting my light, tamed , and curly brown hair in a high ponytail. Then , I grabbed my camera and it's strap and took off, not bothering to say hello to my mother as I passed her coming down our spiral staircase.

She attempted to make small talk but I ignored her , as I have the past couple f months when she started to not cry with me anymore.

I'm pretty sure this is one of of the few times she's been actually sober looking. She drinks her pain away , she's slowly killing herself too;The one thing I don't mind about her. I kinda like that we are both slowly dying as a whole 'family'.Soon the last name 'Grey' will slowly fade away and never be passed down by us.

I look just like my mom but fatter, uglier, and weaker .

My brother and I have her brown hair , her diamond blue eyes, and I have her long tan legs . Except carters a boy ; he is-was pretty muscular though .

But , I have my dads nose, heart shaped face , and small but nice lips. It always warms my heart when I think I look just a little bit like him.

When my feet touched the hot sand, I never knew how much I would miss the soft but hard sand under my long ,ugly feet.

I pushed away the thoughts of committing suicide right now at that moment and thought about what it'd be like to be gone .

Would I go to hell or heaven ? Would I have ten minutes of my life flash through my eyes like the scientists say or would I be nothing?