Story cover for My Truth: I Wanted To Die by AdwitiyaRDixit
My Truth: I Wanted To Die
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Ongoing, First published Jul 24, 2016
Everyone has a truth. Their own truth. A truth they cannot run from. A truth they can't deny. A truth which is true down to it's very core. This is my truth.

I am Adwitiya. No more than a lad of 19 with aspirations swirling in my head of infamy and peace. I am no more than that. None above it. The one other thing that I am is emotional. Other than that I am none.

I should be sleeping as I am writing this. I have a job to do. A girl to tend to and care for. A passion to peruse and dreams to dream of and complete. I have deadlines set up by me to finish. I have targets set up by me to reach. Achievements to achieve. But here I am expressing my truth.

Listen carefully.

When I was in school, I was a lad who had none of the things I mentioned above. Other than emotion. No dreams and no aspiration. All my life was stuck in a loop which was looped with short term targets and none of the long term achievements aimed at. I was alone. I felt alone and sick and stranded. I felt as if I was lost in this labyrinth of suffering and would never make it out alive.

Today. As of right now.
 25-07-16
 02:15 hrs
A Monday.
I read a story.

A creepypasta. We all know what a creepypasta is. For those who don't, let me enlighten you with a dark part of the internet. Ever felt a deep urge to be scared? If you have and you are frequent with Google, you would have come across stories which are meant to scare you. Down to the core. I am a creator of such content but what I read today and as of now, has sent me to an ache which I forgot of and was cured of.

The name of the creepypasta is "Suicide Culture" and it has not scared me but sent me to an ache. A Spasmodic ache. It tells a story of a guy who is sad and meets a girl online. This girl tells him about this forum. And finally this forum posts encouragement to suicide. The lad refreshes the page and finds the girl, whom he has ever seen only once before in a photograph, dead.

My truth is not beautiful. My truth is
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"She's right! She's right! I don't cut in the right spot." My hold tightens on my wrist. The red blood oozes out of my wrist. I slide up and grab my bag and run out of the bathroom. I don't care if people can see the blood I just want to get out. I race for the doors and shove through people. I earn a lot of glares and glances that read "weirdo." I ignore and push. I run to my house and lock myself in my bathroom. I don't bother closing the front door cause I don't care if people come in to kill me. I grab my razor and cut deep cuts into my arm and wrists falling into a pool of my own blood. • • • Evangeline has a great life. Friends? Check! Good grades? Check! Loving family? Check! But what if she has secrets that nobody knows of? What if the only thing she can trust is her secret diary? What if slowly but surly she's dying inside? How can an innocent twelve year old deal with these problems? Will she keep on facing these problem till the day she breaks. Her school burns down forcing her into a different school to meet different people and she has to fit into a different lifestyle as well. Meet Evangeline. Now at 17 years of age in a new high school. Not all girls anymore. No uniform. Meet Drake. Your classic bad-boy. He just moved to Saint Abigail high school. He is assigned partners with the quiet, calm, unnoticed Evangeline. As time progresses he finds that she isn't as happy on the inside as she is on the outside. Can he save her? Or is it too late? • • • Some rude language. Depression and cutting. Don't say I didn't warn you. Okay, I wrote this at the start of this year (may 2016) and I had very poor writing skills. This book hasn't been edited and the whole idea is cliche so I wouldn't recommend you read it but I'm not stopping you, either. Read at your own risk. • • • Copyright © 2017 by -moonlust. All rights reserved.