Dear Dawson

Dear Dawson-36

The rustling sound below me, which kept filling my ears endlessly, was both a combination of wind and the water from the lake below slapping against the rocks. I took in a deep breath- my last- as I attempted to breathe in the noise as well. This would be the sound I would hear as I fell from the cliff below me, as I died.

At least it was peaceful, even though the last thing I felt right now was peace.

I would like to say that it wasn't scary, even though I wanted to die truly, but it was. It was a terrifying thought that in less than an hour I would quite possibly be dead in the bottom of some lake, and I wanted that.

I didn't blame anyone. I blamed myself.

It was my decision for my own reasons, no one else's. No one asked me to be depressed all the time so much that I wanted to jump off a cliff. That was me.

I mean, yeah, there have been sad moments in my life that made me even sadder, but that happens to everyone. You don't see everyone who goes through something jumping off of a cliff.

I stare down at the scene below, taking in a shaky breath, before I finally pull out my notebook, preparing to write my last entries.

This is my goodbye to the world, so goodbye world.