Golden Child Imagines

20 • Suicide

Suicide, bc y not :/ i want you to suffer lololol im kidding but i swear im not suicidal

Not that triggering, but if you are sensitive with such themes, like suicide and stuff, please read at your own risk. Thank you~

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The world is turning black and white. Everything is colorless, looking so dull and gloomy like your existence. Even the sun, which is shining so brightly high up in the sky, didn't shine in your eyes. You couldn't hear any sound except your silent crying and the gusts of wind that pass by you.

You look at the scenery below. Cars zooming past, people crossing, traffic lights going red, orange, and green.

It would be terrible if someone would die down there.

Even from a high distance, you can see everyone's smiling faces, as opposed to your depressed and crying one.

All you have to do is jump, a small voice inside your head whispers to you. Then all of your problems will fade away.

You close your eyes as tears stream on your face, sad and horrible memories filling inside your brain, making you more and more eager to end your life then and there.

No one would even grieve for you.

You don't even have friends anymore. They left you, remember?

Your boyfriend cheated on you and had the audacity to leave you.

Your dad left you and your mom. And then she died because of an illness.

No one loves you, and no one will ever will.

You cried and cried as your head is being filled with the lies---no, the truth that you should know. It's hurting you, yes, but it is the truth. And you have no power to change it.

All those times when you were happy were all fake in your mind.

You want to jump there and then, but there's a tiny part of you that's nagging you to stop this nonsense, to stop whatever you are doing and what you might do.

You are still hesitating.

"Why...why of all people do I have to bear with this pain?!" You cry out, hoping to get a response. As you expected, you hear nothing.

You look at the multiple scars on your wrists and arms. There are so many, and some of them are just recently done. You rub some of them. It stings, but somehow, it still gives you pleasure. How, you didn't know.

Anyone who can see you might probably think that you're another idiot who thinks that suicide will fix everything.

Well I guess I am an idiot.

You are an idiot for being a mess. An idiotic and depressed suicidal mess.

A mess that can never be fixed by anyone.

But still, you wish that there is someone who can fix you, someone who is willing to go through all the hardships and pain with you, someone who can help you and be happy with you.