Soulless eyes.

Hi guys! Sooo this is my first attempt at writing a story so sorry if it's shitty and I'm not an english expert so sorry for any mistakes. Ok well, enjoy the story
~Insanity

--------------------

I stopped every movement for a second. Silence. My mom was sound asleep and my best friend was snoring in my bed. The perfect moment, the perfect time. Nothing can stop me now, right? I need this. I want this. I need to end the feelings, to wash the memories, to close the lights in my head, to say goodbye to my little friends and just go to sleep forever. And so, I take my mom's bottle of sleeping pills in my hand, just staring at the pills and think for a bit.

Some people say they are afraid of death, but are they really? Or are they afraid of not having another chance at doing everything they want? Are they afraid of losing the people they most care about? Or are they maybe afraid of death being painful? Is death painful? I guess it depends... If you burn to death it's painful, your skin slowly burning and disappearing revealing the parts of your interior that haven't been burnt, knowing you are going to die but not yet, waiting desperately for it to come, for the pain to become a numb sensation, and the screams to stop. A plane crash or car accident or anything alike is probably painful too. You sitting hurt in an uncomfortable position and not able to move, slowly either waiting for someone to come and rescue you or for death to come visit you and take you with her. What about being stabbed in the heart or being shot? Yeah, bleeding to death sounds pretty bad and painful. Standing in a probably dangerous place with a knife or a bullet in your chest, bleeding and coughing blood asking for help but receiving none, sad. Sad is what this world is. Sad is that these things have to happen and pain demands to be felt. Sad is how people have to suffer and die. And that's not it, not only dying by the hand of another person or thing, but taking your own life, killing yourself. When you can't take it anymore and you think about ending it all. How? Overdose, not as painful as other methods, you just have to know what to take and how much, you may feel dizzy and tired, completely normal. Hanging yourself, it must hurt a bit, right? Or maybe not, maybe at first it's just that feeling of exhaustion after you run for a long time or a long distance and can't breathe properly... just amplified by one hundred and continuing. Cutting yourself, popping a vein, bleeding to death, must probably hurt as much as being stabbed. Jumping off a high building, it's all about the moment your body meets the concrete ground, before that your breathing just becomes irregular on the way down and your heart beats very fast. Shooting yourself in the head, waiting for the blood to fill your ears lungs and heart, slowly becoming deaf to your surroundings and starting to see black dots everywhere, not having the ability to breathe anymore, fun. And there are so many other ways of self destruction and killing yourself but out of all of them I chose overdosing.

My suicide notes are in my wardrobe near my good old friends: my blades, knives, cigarettes, lighter, other pills and my alcohol stash. I think about the last time I pressed the cold metal to my skin, the last time I smoked one of my cigarettes on the way home from school that night, the last time I felt the burning sensation of the fire against my cold skin, the taste of the pills in my mouth, on my tongue, and the alcohol that helped me swallow them.

'Well, let's try again' I thought as I took the whole bottle of pills and drank it with a bottle of beer and sat on the pillow on the floor in my uncomfortable corner of the room, while staring at those familiar pair of dark soulless demon eyes that haunted me for so long, thinking about how it all started...