Ghosts In The Dark

1: Goodbye

Bethany:

'People who die by suicide don't want to end their lives, they want to end their pain.' - This couldn't be any more accurate.

Death looked me straight in the eye, as I stood there, an unusual thought crossed my mind; the angel of death was more comforting than most people thought. You see I'm not scared, in fact I invite it. Most people are afraid and unwilling to invite death into them; I had seen it only as an escape... I had not always felt this way, there was a time when I was like everyone else: normal. That is until the last few years.

You see I told them I was tired; in fact I was depressed. I told them I would be fine tomorrow; I knew tomorrow will be worse. I told them lies everyday, and I knew by myself I wouldn't be able to stop it. I had this awful habit of falling too fast and crashing too hard. I cared too much and forgave to easy. I waited too long and missed people I shouldn't, as well as worried over nothing and over-thought everything. I was just too complicated to be loved. You see, you they thought I wanted to die; in reality I just wanted to be saved... the monsters we think live under our bed actually live inside us, and sometimes they win...

No one was aware of the shape I was in, my hands shook and my head, it would spin. Have you ever cried so much that it hurts? You see, the difference between you and me was that when you wake up your nightmares ends. I couldn't not brave anymore, I was broken, my dreams broke me. Sometimes I felt as though I don't have the right to be depressed, when I knew other people had it worse; sometimes it scared me what I could do to myself.

I didn't write suicide notes with paper and ink, instead I drew them on my skin in pictures that left scars and bloodstains. Such pretty pictures.  I wished I didn't exist. I tried to stop; it didn't work. You see we're all addicted to something that takes the pain away...some peoples addictions stronger than others. 'Are you okay?' people would ask. Inside I wanted to scream that I'm not; instead I just smiled 'Yeah, I'm just tired' I would whisper, or any other excuse. Except I was tired, tired of feeling how I felt. The feeling of not being good enough, of being a disappointment, of messing everything up, pushing people away, of just being alone. One day, this pain I felt may make sense to you. Although I do hope you never have to endure the feeling of not being good enough and self hate. I guess numbing the pain for a while will actually make it worse when you finally do feel it; faking a smile if so much easier than explaining why you feel like you do.

Slut, whore, bitch - Just a fraction of what they would call me. These words beat me down everyday, my eyes would always be red from crying. I won't cry anymore - I am going to do something about it.

I shut myself down, no motivation for anything. I told myself no body cares, even though I knew some do. I thought of every single fuck up in my life and I gave myself the pain I thought I deserved. I wasn't  sure why I did that, it's just how I was. I felt it, the dead weight of my legs from the sleeping pills, the dizziness from the alcohol, the soft throbbing of my pulse as blood was pumped out of my wrists. That was it. That was what I've been waiting for - the quiet comfort. The beauty of dying.

They say everyone has their own story and not to judge until you have heard it. Well now you have heard part of mine, judge as you will; your words cannot hurt me anymore, you see as you were reading this you have not realised this is my suicide note.  Behind my smile, was a hurting heart. Behind my laugh I was falling apart. If you had looked close you'd have seen, the girl I was just wasn't me.

Goodbyes are not forever, they are not the end; it simply means I'll miss you, un till we meet again.

And like that she was gone; another number on a list, a memory that would soon fade, just another tragedy...