You die.
I die.
It's as simple as that.
No one could've stopped me but you and if your sister hadn't have called me when she did I would have finally know what it was like for my blade to stab through my flesh and to feel myself grow cold as I slip away.
But even though you're alive and I'm not going to die I still managed to get a few small cuts in, small but enough for mum to notice and to start asking question like; Why? and When? and For how long?
Sure I tired to find comfort from my friend, hoping he would be there to tell me what to do and that you would be ok, just anything to distract me and make me put my knife down. But he didn't answer me. And I was left to cry and shake trying to reach you and waiting for some sign that you were alive, something.
We're so angry that you would do that, that you could be so selfish and leave us like that. You are everything to us, we will go to hell and back to make you smile.
Why would you even think of doing that?
Do you want me to kill myself? Because if that's what it takes to make you smile I'll do it. And no one would be there to stop me.
YOU ARE READING
Falling Inside the Black
Short StoryShort stories about the things that go in inside my head and how I think. This is really just me venting my emotions so some of it might not make sence and be dark and morbid but some times there will be a few good times in here.
