Tears

02 » suicide

.... { " People who commit suicide suffer even in the afterlife. " }

I opened the door of the refrigerator and found nothing inside. The shelves were completely empty. I closed the door and checked every cabinet in the kitchen. There was nothing for me to eat.

A small pile of unopened bills, for which haven't even been touched as dust collected on the top, sat on the island counter and I already knew that if I didn't get a job soon, mum and I would be homeless. Mum never cared for me, let alone herself, so she doesn't have a job. She keeps getting sacked for her poor attendance record and lazy efforts. She always spends her savings on drugs- she usually goes to the bad side of town to find a dealer.

I rubbed my temples hard with my index and middle finger as the stress began to fill my head.

Food first. Then get a job.

With my stomach groaning, I grabbed my purse and the keys to my car and left the house for the grocery store. Walking down the driveway towards my car- the thing was old, rusty, spider-web infested, and the windows can't even roll down- I pulled out the keys and unlocked the doors. I wrestled open the drivers door and got in, jabbed the keys into the ignition and turned them. The car roared to life and I pulled out of the driveway.

The city roads were always straight and sharp. Tall skyscrapers surrounded every street and corner, and the footpaths were occupied by hundreds of businessmen and tourists. The city I lived in was never quiet and the air was hardly fresh. Cars would honk their horns nearly every five seconds and pollution from vehicles darkened the air, giving it a musky look to the atmosphere. I hated this city so much, so did Amy. So when she saw an opportunity to move to the country, of course she took it.

I wouldn't blame her, though.

I've always dreamt of moving somewhere far away from this place. I wanted to run freely through tall green grass and live in a small house surrounded by fields decorated with daisies. I would lay on the ground all day, making shapes out of the white fluffy clouds or counting each and every star.

Gripping onto the steering wheel tightly as I drove onto the city bridge, a thought had crossed my mind. I could end it all right here and now. Just one big steer to the right and my car would slip in circles across the wet road, throw itself over the edge and into the giant river below. I would let myself be swallowed by the deep water, along with the car, and slip into the place I had imagined. It would be quick, simple, and a classic way to die. Maybe...

I shook my head, waving the idea away. I've had these bitter thoughts before; about killing myself. Ending my life because it wasn't worth living. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't have the guts or the determination. I didn't want to hurt my sister, I didn't want her to suffer without her little sister. She would blame herself, I couldn't do it.

I heard that there's a special place for those who commit suicide. A place filled with screaming, tortured souls and dark bottomless pits of despair. People who commit suicide suffer even in the afterlife.

I don't want that, I want to be at peace when I died.