Late Night Thoughts

1. Cemetery

Once again, she collapsed on the cold bed, exhausted from another day when her mind made her feel worthless. She laid there, while saying to herself that at least she made it through another day. She checked her pulse and heart. She felt them. She reminded to herself that only because her vitals work doesn't mean she's alive. She hasn't been alive for awhile now, but as long as nobody caught up to her daily act, it was all worth it. She was losing herself, drowning alone, each night.

Another sleepless night when she felt as all of her friends hated her, as nobody liked her. She felt alone. This night she felt more alone than never. During the day, everybody kept reminding her of how she was worthless, of how she wasn't doing anything in life, of how nobody would ever like her. But did they really? Or was it just her mind which was tiring her to the end. She was staring into the pitch black room, trying to find a reason to go through another day. After all, she didn't have anybody. Tears started to fall down her bright eyes, while she covered her mouth with her hand making sure she doesn't make a sound. She kept repeating to herself that she was worthless, hopeless and didn't deserve anything. She didn't deserve friends.

A waterfall of tears kept going from her eyes. She put her hands together, that's when she felt her scars. That's when her mind was instantly flooded by all the memories she wanted to forget. She remembered when she was supporting herself by her hands on the bathroom sink, looking at her ghost-like self in the mirror, while her eyes were red and swollen. She had the blade in her fist. She put her hand up in front of her once again, while she was looking at the blade. One cut deep enough to end it all. There she went. One swipe on the wrist was enough to make her fall to her knees, crying her eyes out while watching the blood flow in streams on the floor. She remembered all the times she had to wear long sleeves in the summer so no one would think she's a so called "freak". So no one would know what she went through every day. Her mind was a cemetery of memories she induced herself she forgotten. But she didn't. She remembered it as clearly as if it had happened yesterday.

She reached under the pillow, only to find the same blade. The same blade with the same blood stains. The blade that brought her so much relief, yet so much pain. She squeezed it hard into a fist. She thought to herself if it was worth it to go through all of it again. One cut, she thought, just one cut to make all this infinite pain from this night go away. She was swiping the blade carefully top down her wrist. She finally let the blade go. That night, she didn't have enough power to do it. She turned to one side, while her pillow instantly got wet from her tears.

She finally whispered to herself the same thing she was saying every night. "One more day". For two years, every night, she said "one more day". She was waiting for the night when she said "the last day". She was waiting for the night she runs out of reasons to live. Not necessary "to live", but to keep her vitals going. She was waiting for the moment her mind would get so messed up, no one could save her. And she was close. That's how she fell asleep. Once again escaping her thoughts. "One more day", ready to fight her mind for one more exhausting day.