Long, but worth it.
You’re sitting in your room ~ door locked ~ with a pen in
your hand and a blank piece of paper in front of you. Your hand
is shaking, and the tears begin again - for the third time in
the past hour. ‘To my family’ you write at the top
of the page, but decide it’s a bad way to begin your
letter ~ your suicide letter. You t
ry again, start over ~ again and again, but you
don’t know where to begin. No one understands you; no
one knows what you’re going through, you’re alone
or at least that’s what you think. Nobody would care if
you’re alive or not, you mean nothing to nobody.
It’s night, and you slip into bed.
’Goodbye’ you whisper into the darkness. And with
that, you take your last breathe and end it all.
No body cares, right? Well you thought wrong. It’s a
Tuesday the following morning, and when it’s 7:21, your
mother comes and knocks on your door. She doesn’t know
you can’t hear her she doesn’t know you’re
gone. She knocks a few more times, calling your name to open
up. When there is no reply from your side of the door, she
opens it and screams. She collapses on the ground while your
dad rushes to your room. Your siblings have already left for
school. Your very weak mother collects all the energy
she’s got which is close to nothing to walk over to
your bed. She leans over your dead body, crying, squeezing
your hand, screaming. Your dad is trying to stay strong, but
the tears escape his eyes; calling 000 or 911 with his left
hand while his other one is on your mother’s back. Your
mother blames herself. All those times she had said
‘no’ to you, all those times she had screamed at
you, and sent you to your room over something stupid. Your
father will blame himself for not being there for you when
you asked for help, for being away from home at work for
long. Nobody cares, right?
8:34. There’s a knock on your classroom door it’s
the school principle. She looks more worried than ever. She
calls the teacher to the side; all the students worried:
what’s going on? The principle then later announces
about your suicide. The popular girl that always called you
fat and ugly is now blaming herself. The kid that would
always copy your homework but treat you like crap ~
he’s blaming himself. The boy that sits behind you ~
the one that always threw things at you during class ~
he’s blaming himself too. The teacher is blaming
herself - for all those times she’d scream at you for
forgetting your homework, or not listening in class. People
are crying, screaming, shocked, in regret of what they did.
They’ll all be devastated - even the kids you’ve
never talked to before. Still nobody cares about you,
right?
Your siblings get home. Your mother has to tell them that
you’re gone; forever. Your little sister ~ no matter
how many times she’s screamed at you, told you she
hated you and stole your stuff ~ always loved you, and saw
you as her hero; her role model. She now starts to blame
herself; why didn’t I do what she told me to do when
she told me to? Why did I take her stuff even when she asked
me not to? This is all my fault. Your brother gets home ~ the
boy that never cries. He’s now in his room; mad at
himself ~ he caused your death. All those times he’d
played pranks on you. He’s punching holes in his wall,
turning over things; he doesn’t know how to deal with
the fact that you’re gone. Forever. Nobody cares about
you, right? Right?
It has been over a month. The door to your room has been
closed all this time. Everything is different now. Your
brother has to be sent to anger management classes, your
little sister cries everyday still waiting for you to come
back. Everyday she waits for you to come back home. The
popular girls have now turned anorexic. They don’t know
how to deal with the pain that they’re feeling. Your
father has depression; your mother hasn’t slept for
nights it’s all her fault. She’s been crying and
screaming every night wishing for you to come back. The boy
who would always bother you dropped out of school. The boy
that copied your homework now cuts. But nobody cares about
you, aren’t I right?
Your mother finally decides to go clean out your room. But
she can’t do it. She’s locked herself in your
room for two days to try to clean up your clothes, your
things. But she can’t she can’t say goodbye to
you, not yet, not now. Never.
It’s your funeral. It’s a big one ~ everybody
comes. No one knows what to say. The beautiful girl with the
big smile is gone; you’re somewhere else. No one knows
what to say, they’re all still shocked. Everyone cries,
everyone misses you. They all wish you’d come back but
you don’t, and you won’t.
Still think nobody cares about you? Think again. Even if
people don’t show it, they care about you, they love
you. If you kill yourself today or any other day you
won’t know just how much you meant to people. If you
kill yourself today, it stops your pain, but it pains all the
ones who know you for the rest of their life. Suicide is the
easy way out - but it’s the wrong choice. Life is
beautiful. Yes, it does have its ups and downs everyone has
their bad days. Sometimes people go through tough times in
their lives like you’re probably going through now but
bad times come and go. You might not see the light at the end
of the tunnel, but it’s there. No matter how hard life
gets, never give up on yourself, or on your life.
Take a minute now, and think. If you killed yourself ~ how
would the people that love you feel/go through? Can’t
think of anything? Well I’ll tell you: tears, tears,
and more tears. Devastation. Guilt. Pain. Broken. Regret.
Miserable.
If after reading this you still feel suicidal, there are
people that can help you. I’m here for you whenever you
need me, and I’ll be more than happy to listen to you
and try to help you feel better. There are teachers, parents,
grandparents, neighbors, adults, councilors ~ they’re
all there for you whenever you need them.
I just want you to remember three things: you’re
beautiful, you’re not alone, and it does get better, I
promise. ♥
dolphinz00 · 1 decade ago
No I found it online
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