Nyctophilia

28

!Really graphic content such as suicide attempt in this chapter. Please if it can trigger you, skip to the next chapter!

Nyctophilia's p.o.v.

I tried. I tried so hard to keep going. Every freaking day since exactly five years ago, I've been waking up with the thought that it would get better soon. For five years I've been trying to convince myself this. Nothing has changed. I still get those horrible nightmares. I still have that terrifying fear of meeting another man like him. I can still feel his hands on my body. I tried to forget it all, I did try. At some point, everything seemed to get better, but it was only an illusion. I was just ignoring my problems that never left my mind. I wish they could leave me. I wish I could be in peace again... and I've decided to make my wish come true today.

People always say how children, teenagers and adults need to seek help when they need it. I don't believe anyone could help me. I could never forget anything about that night from when I was 12 years old. An innocent 12 years old just walking home from the library. I was raped and nothing could ever make me forget the terrible pain I felt. Both mentally and physically. No therapist, no psychologist, no one can help me. It's a two choices situation. Either I live like this forever... or I just end it all.

I don't want to sound like a coward... but sometimes thinking about ourselves before the others is worth it. Right now, for the first time in a long while, I choose myself over others. I choose myself over the people who supposedly care for me. Because, how can someone love me when I can't even love myself? How can they spend time with me when I can barely support myself? How can they look at me when I cannot not gag at my own reflection?

My dad, my brother, my friends, Aaron, they all don't love me nor appreciate me. How can they even like someone such as myself? If I was them, I'd just throw myself in the street. I don't deserve them and they don't deserve to feel trapped because of me.

I don't deserve to be alive.

They'll probably be shocked, yeah. Will they get over it? I have no doubt about it. In a matter of days, I'll be forgotten and it'll be as if I never existed. My dad can have a loving son on his side, Aaron can find a girl who truly deserves his attention, Dylan can find another friend who won't be as shattered as me, Gabby can live happily with Alex without me bothering... it'll be so much better for them.

The way the tears are living my eyes to fall on the side of my head as I'm lying on my bed doesn't even stop me from doing it. I'm not crying because I'm scared. I'm crying because I'm tired. I'm exhausted. I'm disappointed. Why was I born if it's to end it so soon? Why did my parents spend time on me so I could end it at the age of 17? I wasted my mom's time... I wasted a major part of her life... she could've used that time for my dad and I ruined it all...

The tears keep on pouring down my cheeks as I think of my mom. I push myself in a sitting position, still on my bed, and I grab a pillow. Not being able to contain it anymore, I scream as loud as I can with all the agony I've experienced in the past 5 years in the pillow.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry mom. I- I tried. I'm so- sorry." I whisper to myself as if my mother could hear me.

I get up from my bed as I try to control my breathing. I can't make any noise or Clay and dad may hear me. I don't want them to save me. I really don't.

I take my phone with me, wipe my tears and leave my room. I look in the hallway, making sure no one's there, tears silently rolling down to my chin. I make my way slowly to the bathroom, locking the door of the little room behind me.

I've been planning this for more than a week. I told myself I'd do it the day it happened. January 31st. What's better than the day I was raped? This date used to mean the end of a normal and innocent month and became a memory of the most horrible night of my whole self being.