Feathered Features (Feature and Essay Writing, Feature and Essay Articles)

1: Might As Well Kill Myself

10/2019

Might As Well Kill Myself

Red is a very attractive color, don't you think? Do you like the color red? The red of roses, of lava, of Snow White's lips --- of blood. Everybody does. But if you think that us, students, like the color red, well then, think again.

Card's Day. Awarding of Honors Ceremony. All are glittering with smiles. Spreading hugs and handshakes of "Congratulations!" Old and young gathered cheerfully, praising accomplishments. While me? My old folks are as real as unicorns and that pot of gold at the end of any rainbow. Nowhere to be found. Perhaps... perhaps my sister caught all their attention. Again. She was always the only star on their stage. The sun that brightens up their sky. Again and again, so alone, so lonely, with nothing but the wind behind me, I step up and face my fear. And as I open my card, my eyes laid on the very color I loathe. Red.

If the color red was music, people would hear love, romance, power, and individuality. With a change of its tune, red can also be anger, hate, and alarm. But as I gaze at the color, I tremble. Icy beads ran like rivers on my skin. For that godforsaken color, in my family, means many, many more. Disappointment. The Cold Shoulder. And worse? A trip to the Museum of Knives. Where you can do nothing but appreciate all they have to say about what a failure you are. I couldn't stand for myself as they breathed fire at me saying, "Be more like your sister." "She is a beauty, has the brains, the heart, and is everything that you are not." Oh, that heart shattering comparison. Will I be able to hear that for the rest of my life?

Standing there, with my head hung low, I accepted all that I was seeing. Absorbed all that I was hearing. And drowned in all that I was feeling. No matter how hard I try, those words, those actions, those--- knives, pierced through my heart and soul that even the strongest metal in the world, Vibranium, couldn't have stopped them.

So I killed myself.

While questioning my entire existence, if I was even worth it, if I was ever enough, if any of what I did even mattered to them.

I killed myself. But not by hanging. Nor by poisoning, or slicing my wrists, or jumping off a tall building, but by surrounding myself with positivity.

I killed myself with so much love and appreciation for my being. Taking my inspirations to heart, I now have learned that only I decide my fate and how I want to be remembered by.

"I am enough. I am so enough. It's unbelievable how enough I am."

Now, the red things that I love the most are the small heart cutouts that my children (students) give to me on my every birthday (teacher's day).

Red is indeed a very attractive color.