Blank Canvas: One Shots and Short Stories

Story No.1

Warning!: Thoughts and actions of suicide and depression up ahead!

"Hey! This is Nomora! I'm not available at the moment, so leave a message after the beep!"

I listen to the voicemail recording as I sit on the floor, pictures spread out in front of me. I sit the phone down as the tears come.

How could it all go to waste, all my efforts. And for what? It seems hopeless; empty. Something glitters in the moonlight just out of the corner of my eye.

I organize the pictures according to the dates. Oldest to newest; left to right. Flowers, shadows, silhouettes all dance across the pictures as I sort through them. My best works were done when I was younger; when I was innocent.

Now, my demons haunt my mind in all the hours of my waking day. They spout words and phrases that used to harm me, but are now old news. Yet, they still find ways to taunt me.

In my younger years, I never understood what depression was; I never understood what it could do. Now, it's my only friend. It's the only thing I know.

The moonlight catches the object again, this time, making it visible to my eyes.

I sob as I pick up a picture that I took when I was 15. It is an image of four girls, two of whom are my sisters. They were so happy, so blissful. But I've ruined that.

I didn't mean to, I just had to walk away from it all, from my family. I was getting out of control. The fear and anger only grew in me, making me feel invincible.

I would hurt them. I didn't always use objects, however, I used my tongue and my wits. I would take their flaws, their secrets, and bend them to my will until they were begging for me to stop. I would, and I would bathe in their fear and sadness. My family didn't deserve that; they never did.

You see, I'm a monster, an evil being who couldn't even protect her loved ones from herself. I'm a disgrace. I'm a fuck up. I'm nothing.

These thoughts rattle in my mind as my body shakes from the sobs tearing through me. I cover my face with my hands, hoping no one hears me.

The knife glitters again, this time making it known to my eyes. I can't deny it anymore, it must be done.

I grab the glittering object and stand. My numb legs take me to the bathroom where the light filters through the curtain and into a lifeless void.

I start the water, filling the tub with cold water. My thoughts fly through my head, all sending the same message: do it, you worthless piece of shit.

The tub is almost full, looking so pretty under the moonlight. I step a foot in, with clothes and all, and submerge to my neck.

I breathe in as the coolness floods my senses. I turn off the faucet and lie flat along the bottom of the tub.

With the knife in hand, I roll up my sleeves and stare at the scars. How I'm yearning for this to just end already.

The blade feels cold against my skin, searing it with a pain that I've never felt before. A good pain, though.

The waters' color changes as both arms start to feel numb and cold. My body starts to shut down as my mind goes blank.

A single thought pops into my head before my eyes close:

"Hey! This is Nomora! I'm not available at the moment, so leave a message after the beep!"

Beep.

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So, this is was very graphic. But, I have gone through depression and I have gotten better. I have defeated it and so many of you can too. Look, don't give up hope. What you read above was my account on what it felt like to be alone and feel helpless. But I got help. And so can you. If you ever need to talk, DM me. I am willing to help another. No one should feel that way. It is heartbreaking and it hurts everything in your body. So I love you all and hope you see another day.

Love,
Izzy.