Suicide.

135K 1.7K 514
                                    

A/N: I am not suicidal, but I felt like writing a short story for it... Enjoy!

---

I held the pill bottle in my hand. I was shaking violently, and tears rolled down my red cheeks. 'Don't do this!' a voice in my head shrieked. So, I painfully reminded myself why I was ending my life in the first place:

Reason One: Bullies. They mercilessly tortured me every day at school. Boys teased me about my deep voice, telling me I sounded like a man and that I looked ugly. Girls spread rumors that I stalked Sean...the boy I liked, and they said that my father killed himself because he wished I wasn't born.

Reason Two: I am invisible to grown-ups. When I try to tell Mom my problems, she ignores me and doesn't keep eye contact. My teachers aren't there for me, and sometimes, when my guidance consular thinks the hallway is clear, I hear him telling others my business and how boring I am.

Reason Three: My father died. He was mentally ill and decided to kill himself when I was only nine years old. Sometimes, I think he did hate me.

Reason Four: I was raped when I was thirteen. It hurt and it made me unable to trust anyone. When I told my Mom, she thought I just had sex instead of rape and was disgusted. Now she never looks at me anymore.

Reason Five: I'm not pretty. I'm not artistic, musical, or creative in any way! I'm useless. I'm just a waste of air and space in this overpopulated Earth.

Reason Six: Abuse. I remember my father used to beat Mom and my brother, Nick. Now Nick is the only one who understands me, and knows how I feel. He is the only one who loves me.

So, remembering this, remembering who wronged me, who made me feel unwanted, who beat me and who violated me, who made me feel ugly, hopeless and useless...

With one last thought, I downed the whole pill bottle, threw myself onto my bed, and cried myself into a peaceful, endless sleep.

Suicide.Where stories live. Discover now