Fuck. I thought too hard, and now I'm back where I wanted to stop. Why does this always happen? I want to stop, but why am I still telling myself no. I'm going to kill myself without even knowing why. Most boys would probably say how they can't believe they'll die before they got to lose their virginity and all that shit. But I'm crying inside...knowing I'll never be able to garden with my mom anymore.
Mom. The word nor good or bad... just a word. I remember when we would go out into the backyard and she'd teach me the different methods and ways to do this and that. She homeschooled me my whole life.... so whenever she was like this I didn't see her as mom, but Ms.Mom. A named chosen by her of course.
Whenever I'd do a good job she would give me a lollipop. And as childish as this may sound for a 17 year old, I loved them. It made me feel special, for it made me smile, even behind my mask. My mask of emotions of course. You can't just walk up to someone and say your depressed and suicidal. You make it seem like it's okay. When really you know they'll never actually understand what your going through.
As amazing as a mom I made her sound like, she also had her bad side. Whenever her and my dad would fight, which would be almost everyday, she would start drinking...a lot. This made her angry and she would always through bottles at me and curse at me and etc. I didn't say or do anything about it...I knew she didn't want this...and even my dad knew it too.
No flowers in sight of this forest...what a shame. I looked up and saw that it had already been night time. It felt as if I've been here for only a couple of minutes..or maybe I've just lost myself in these pathetic ways to turn back. No, I'm not trying...this world is. This horrible, horrible world.
I stopped, looking around once more. I sat down on the ground, the leaves were hard and pointy, but the pain was numb, for I knew what I was going eventually do would be more painful. I opened the bag I carried with me, and took out a B.L.T sandwich. I brought this in case I get hungry, and well, a B.L.T sandwich and so I might as well have my favorite sandwich when I'm going to face my worst death. I've died plenty of times...mentally..spiritually...socially...and whatever more you can think of.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
Time Colours
ContoHe Is Suicidal, He Tells His Greatest Memories Before His Final Exit From This World. He Is Confused, And So Should You Be When Reading This. Everything Was Done Purposely, Remember That.
