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The words cut deep, deeper than the wounds on my wrists and the knives in my back. Hoping to escape the pain, I run down the halls, wanting, no, needing, to escape the pain. Before the words are permantly etched in my brain, I turn into the guidance office. There and then I let it all out. The tears and the sobs and those weird wheezing noises when you cry too much come out of me in one weird blow. The teachers here are used to it. I'm here at least once a day. One of them, Tatiana, comes and sits next to me. She slouches down beside me and pulls me in. Tatiana is my life saver, she's a better mom to me than my real mom. She lets me cry into her, staining her shirt with puddles of tears. I can still hear the snickers and insults in my brain.
"They called me," and I gasp for air, still sobbing. I say the things they called me, things so terrible, even I wouldn't dare call anyone these things. Anyone. More horrible things they called and told me come out. Tatiana tells me to stand up, and I do. I stand, and she hugs me. Before I can stop her, she pulls up my sleeves and sees the scars. Instead of yelling at me like my mother does, she looks at me. "Honey, you need to stop this." I gaze down at the red marks down my arm. They scabbed overnight. I pull down on the sleeves and Tatiana lets go of me. She grabs my head and chin and angles it so she can see it better. "You're beautiful, honey. Those haters out there are just jealous." She pauses. "Stay strong." She tells me to go to class. I tell her I will, but what I don't tell her is that this is the last day I plan to spend on this Earth. What she doesn't know is that my mental health has gotten worse than I let on. Suicidal thoughts had been looming for months. I wanted to leave the pain. The hurt. The everything. I had written her a note that I will leave in my locker, for her to find tomorrow, telling her that I loved her. Instead of going to class, I cut and run home, before my mom does. I have been planning this for days. I grab my nicest dress and put it on, so they don't have to for me. I write a letter.
To everyone I left behind
I did this for me. I could not take it anymore. I'm not going to write that it was me, not you, because it was. You are the ones that pushed me to do this. The abuse. The bullying. Making me feel like I am nothing. But now I am.
Goodbye world,
The girl who lives no more.
I leave the note on the table, where Mother where will find it when she gets home. I don't want to picture her crying or laughing over my body. I'm not sure which one she will do. My classmates and bullies laughing at their success in ruining my life. Tatiana crying and sobbing, as I did this afternoon. Before I can stop myself, my hands grab the pills in the kitchen cabinet and my mouth consumes the contents of the bottle. Feeling my vision go hazy, I stumble up the stairs and feel around my room for the belt I lay out earlier. I fasten around my neck and hang it. I let myself die. My body leaving me and my mind finally shutting down as the light pulls me in and I stumble into God's hands.
"They called me," and I gasp for air, still sobbing. I say the things they called me, things so terrible, even I wouldn't dare call anyone these things. Anyone. More horrible things they called and told me come out. Tatiana tells me to stand up, and I do. I stand, and she hugs me. Before I can stop her, she pulls up my sleeves and sees the scars. Instead of yelling at me like my mother does, she looks at me. "Honey, you need to stop this." I gaze down at the red marks down my arm. They scabbed overnight. I pull down on the sleeves and Tatiana lets go of me. She grabs my head and chin and angles it so she can see it better. "You're beautiful, honey. Those haters out there are just jealous." She pauses. "Stay strong." She tells me to go to class. I tell her I will, but what I don't tell her is that this is the last day I plan to spend on this Earth. What she doesn't know is that my mental health has gotten worse than I let on. Suicidal thoughts had been looming for months. I wanted to leave the pain. The hurt. The everything. I had written her a note that I will leave in my locker, for her to find tomorrow, telling her that I loved her. Instead of going to class, I cut and run home, before my mom does. I have been planning this for days. I grab my nicest dress and put it on, so they don't have to for me. I write a letter.
To everyone I left behind
I did this for me. I could not take it anymore. I'm not going to write that it was me, not you, because it was. You are the ones that pushed me to do this. The abuse. The bullying. Making me feel like I am nothing. But now I am.
Goodbye world,
The girl who lives no more.
I leave the note on the table, where Mother where will find it when she gets home. I don't want to picture her crying or laughing over my body. I'm not sure which one she will do. My classmates and bullies laughing at their success in ruining my life. Tatiana crying and sobbing, as I did this afternoon. Before I can stop myself, my hands grab the pills in the kitchen cabinet and my mouth consumes the contents of the bottle. Feeling my vision go hazy, I stumble up the stairs and feel around my room for the belt I lay out earlier. I fasten around my neck and hang it. I let myself die. My body leaving me and my mind finally shutting down as the light pulls me in and I stumble into God's hands.
