THIS MIGHT BE TRIGGERING!
I close my eyes and take deep breaths. Inhaling one more time, I try again. The kitchen knife is on my wrist. Just there. I don’t have enough strength to apply some friction. My over-sized T-shirt is wet with sweat and tears. Heck, I hate myself so much it scares me. How do they do it? Those who kill themselves, how do they do it? It takes a lot of courage, a lot of pain, a lot of self-hate to successfully murder yourself. I’m going through the pain, yes. I hate myself a little too much but I don’t have that courage to just slit this thing I call my wrist. Ugh.
I’m like a time-bomb but instead of exploding into flames and smoke, I explode into tears and self-hate. One time, I cried because my brother misplaced my favourite earrings. I just spiralled into an hour of self-hate and intense hurt because of those stupid earrings. No, it wasn’t because of them. I was just tired. Sometimes, when life loads so much on your weak shoulders, you still act tough and manage to keep your back straight and chin up. Then a little breeze blows. Nothing heavy. Just a little breeze. And everything comes crushing down on you. That’s how it is now. Losing the earrings was my little breeze.
Right now, I’m crying because I mistakenly deleted my assignment. I’ve lost everything and the deadline is in two hours. I’m so stupid.
Little breeze. I should have saved it as I was doing it. My anxiety has heightened so damn much. I’m going to fail, again.
I’m ugly, I’m dumb, I’m a waste of my parents’ money, I’m a waste of space. I need to be away from people forever. I deserve pain. I deserve to suffer. I’m the reason my parents broke up. Even my mom can’t stand me. I need to end this, but I can’t. Since I’m unable to kill myself, why doesn’t someone just do me the honours? Make it slow and painless, please. Let me savour my last moments. I want to be able to see my life flash before my eyes like a terrible horror movie. At least, I won’t go to hell. That’s where all those who kill themselves go to, right? What about an accident the next time I take a taxi? No one gets hurt but me, dead and gone. One casualty.
So my eyes are closed and I take deep breaths. Inhaling one last time, I put the knife down. I’ll hold my knees together and cry till my eyes are sore and then fall asleep on the bare floor of the basement.
All rights reserved.
Thanks for reading.