"I'm moving." A sentence that struggled to get out of her mouth. For the first time, the attention she aspired for was on her. Many pairs of eyes seeking her out, for those two words.
"We'll miss you!" "Oh...." "Remember to text me, okay?" Were the fake mumbles of the crowd. Nobody said anything about them wanting her to stay. But really, they rejoiced in their minds.
They thought of her as a burden. Weird. Unusual. Strangely quiet. Out of place, even? Even her little circle, of who she thought friends felt somewhat relieved.
But in retrospect, she wasn't moving at all. At least, physically. She was constantly choking on her words, as 'Silence' was beaten unto her. She valued it, forever sucking it up and accepting that her words were a bad thing.
"Momma says a good girl is allllways quiet and listens. A good girl never talks back. Now who's a good girl?"
She was found the next morning dead, swinging from a piece of rope in her closet. Swinging swinging, but her feet never touched the ground. Her lips purple and gnawed on, as her words tore her lips.
The crowd felt guilty. But for what? She was known not to speak for her troubles. Was it their fault? The crowd began to question itself. But the crowd is shallow, and never understood anything that went past their own personal experiences.
Her death was simply discarded in the next two weeks.
~
Kinda dark, im sorry. But if you truly are not feeling okay, feeling so sad that you feel suicidal, CONTACT SOMEONE. CONTACT ANYONE. Your friends, your parents, or see a therapist PLEASE. This is so important. If you have no one, Theres a hotline especially for you:
1 (800) 273-8255
They speak english and spanish and are open at ALL TIMES. Stay safe, ily all.
Deaths not pretty. Deaths not beautiful. Yet it's all I write about. I'm sorry.
