I sit in my dark room, I hate the lights. I have the mirrors covered up, I hate looking at myself. I have no bed, I don't deserve to be comfortable. Sitting in two chairs, are a man and a woman. "You're not enough. Why can't you just pass your classes? You'll never get anywhere in life at the rate your going." "Leave me alone anxiety. You can't control me." I say to the woman. Then, depression looks at me and he starts talking. "Maybe if you weren't such an annoying brat, your friends would like you. Maybe your girlfriend would love you. Oh you didn't know? She's lying to you. Why? She just is. She doesn't want you to fall apart. It doesn't matter. You will anyway." I get up. "Would you too like drinks?" They both nod. I leave the room and walk to the kitchen, I focus on my heels clicking against the floor, it's all I can do to keep myself from collapsing of exhaustion. I pour up two drinks, and put cyanide powder in it. I stir the drinks and bring them in to Anxiety and Depression. "You know, a girl being in love with a girl isn't normal. It's an abomination." As they ridicule me for the final time, they take a sip, and I watch them die with a smile on my face. When they are finally dead, I pick up the phone, and dial 911. "911 what's your emergency?"
"I just killed my parents."
