Bridledbroom

I remember being so stressed. I had school earlier and I had homework to do, but instead, my mom wanted me to paint this townhome she was responsible for. Which on any other day I would be fine with this but today I had an essay, math homework and science project to finish.  I was really stressed and I couldn't think straight, I was crying and my hands were shaking, there was no way I could finish this in time to do my homework, I was screwed. I walked into the bathroom and I looked down as I heard a soft crunch. I stepped on glass, probably from a cup. I picked up some of the shards of glass and looked at one piece in particular.  I pulled it out and set the others aside. I analyzed it and almost without a second thought, I put it to my wrist and ran it across until I saw blood drip onto the sink. I pull away from the glass, oh god what did I do I think as I drop the piece of glass, I hear the throbbing of my heart racing in my ears as in a panic I try to look for something to clean up the blood now dripping down my arm. I close the door to the bathroom as I quickly try to dry it. As if that will help the situation. I know that when my mom sees this she will be pissed. 
          
          I look down at my wrist occasionally, though now it has more streaks of discoloration, I can't go back now, I can't ever go back.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I knew she was tearing up, I could hear it in her voice.
          "yes" I answered back "if it'll mean hundreds of lives over one I'll do it"
          "well the pit is done, you better die this time, got it?" my slightly less emotional friend tries to see the best in everything, but I know that the second I get within the right distance, I'll see a tiny tear.  
          "so you're okay with us basically murdering you, right? 'Cause I was thinking we could grab some cult robes and make this a thing"
          I sighed and giggled a bit, "let's just get this over with okay?"
          I laid down in the pit that my friends had dug for me, this is almost exactly how I pictured my death. I then dug my fingers into the dirt and the roots of any plant within a 5-mile radius began to almost make a coffin over me. As my oxygen began to run out. I strained my ears just to hear my friend reciting Latin and my other sobbing.
          I know what I did was right, but it doesn't feel that way...why? I wish sometimes that I could forget all the pain and the death, but it's still there, I thought that when people die, they would feel at peace, but me? I feel as peaceful a hurricane.