The morning after you take your life your mom will find you. She will sit there in tears holding her baby's head. She will beg and scream as your father calls the ambulance and your siblings stand in the doorframe, silent tears running down their face, your brother leaving for training to forget everything.
The week after you take your life your siblings won't go to school. Your parents will plan your funeral and your grandma will send prayers to god you entered heaven. Your classmates will find themselves hearing from your death by a teacher. Some of them will care, others won't. There probably will be some kind of "we miss you" post on Instagram or in the school newspaper. But after a while they'll forget.
A month after you take your life your brother takes part in training regularly again, your sister becomes a drug or alcohol addict and your mom gets fired cause she doesn't come to work anymore. Your room is being cleaned out and your stuff is gifted or sold, while your mom keeps your favourite stuffed animal from your childhood.
A year after you take your life your family moves to another town, your old house being sold and another teenager moves into your room, not knowing you died there. Your parents move on, get new jobs and get used to it. Your sister stays an addict while your brother begins to miss training again.
Five years after you take your life your sister is in recovery, your brother graduates university and becomes a doctor. Your mom achieves a high qualification at her job and your dad becomes a famous painter. No-one will know you existed and day by day your family, your friends and your classmates start to forget your voice, your looks and your favourite food.
And fifty years after you take your life there will be your soulmate, marrying into an abusive relationship, losing their interest in love.
Just because you took your own life.
