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The last moments in a bullied boy's life. Suicide, mass killings of a twisted sense of revenge.


Submitted:Apr 26, 2014    Reads: 24    Comments: 0    Likes: 1   


I lay down my head, on a field of flowers, staring up at the sky above. The lilies around me swayed in the breeze, and the miseries of the world were far behind me. I simply lay there, waiting, waiting for my life to end.

~~~

I went to school today, as every other day, like today wasn't special. When I got there, no one talked to me, just like normal. People moved around me, no one wanted to touch the freak. No one wanted to be seen anywhere near me. I was a freak, the weird kid everyone hated, but no one really knew why. My only friend in the world was my father, and he's been dead for twelve years.

But today is a special day. Today is the day when my life, as an ongoing torture, ends. And today is the day that all these people, the jocks, the cheerleaders, even the other uncool kids, will finally have a reason to hate me.

I walk to my classes, the excitement I feel is noticeable, but no one asks me, not even the teachers will talk to me. My math teacher has taken to wearing gloves so he doesn't have to touch me when I hand in my homework, and just passing me so he doesn't have to touch anything I have. My whole day goes by like this, everyone hating and fearing me, and no one knows why. When school ends, I carefully walk home, passing the buses, the buses I was kicked off of for being too noisy. But if you looked carefully, you would have seen the bus driver's new, expensive earring, and her shiny new car. When I sat on the bus, I had a seat by myself, and I never said a word.

When I get home, I change quickly, not letting anyone know I was there. My mother doesn't talk to me, rumors of things I've done have reached her, she sees a therapist so she can be in the same house as me at night. I leave quickly, grapping my special package on the way out. I never expected it to feel so light, but just carting it makes me feel better.

I walk to the mall, where all the popular kids are going. No one notices the oddly shaped box in my hands; no one questions anything I do anymore. The mall security looks at me, and of them wrinkles his nose, disgusted by what he's heard. I want to yell, to tell him it's not true, but if I did, then I couldn't do what I came here for. I walk silently through the packed mall, until I get to the food court. The food court is a huge room, with only one door in or out. It will make it real easy to do what I need to.

Inside this place, I look around for the person I desperately need to see, the only person that really understood me. And then I do. I walk up to him, my best friend for years until he told everyone about my illness. He started this whole mess. I pill out the one thing in my special bag that is not meant for everyone, a small, white index card, on which wrote six words, "I did this because of you." He doesn't see it when I leave it, but I watch him until he does notice. He looks around, puzzled, and then throws it in the trash. It's a shame, I think, he doesn't know, that what is coming is completely his fault. I walk to the center of the room, the ginormous fake mountain.

There I pull out the big part of my day, and drop it, is pills everywhere, but they are small, no one will even notice. I drop small little objects all over the ground, and then I leave. It walk out quickly, there's a lot more I have to do.

Next I walk to the school, where it all started. I do the same thing, I spill my big bag, then smaller little ones all over. No one looks at me oddly, the only one there is the principal, and he's busy with Mrs. Norcross in the library. That's the last place I go, the library, I lock up the doors, they won't notice until it's too late anyway.

Last, I walk up to my house for the last time. I pull out my neatly folded paper, carefully printed with exactly why I did what I am going to do. Finally, when I leave, I feel good, like I can finally be happy. I even take a drink of my water bottle, which I wasn't going to do yet. I go to my favorite spot, the lily field outside the city limits.

I look down at my phone, looking for the text I set up weeks ago. I close my eyes tightly as I press send, it would be my crowning achievement. I hear, miles away, the sound of my text reaching its three different locations, and at last, I am at peace. I pull out my water bottle, and I drink the last of it. The dark berries I put into it weren't all that noticeable, but they made the water taste a little different.

I lay down my head, on a field of flowers, staring up at the sky above. The lilies around me swayed in the breeze, and the miseries of the world were far behind me. I simply lay there, waiting, waiting for my life to end.

And when it comes, when I breathe in for the last time, when my eyes finally close, all I can feel is peace, my nightmare is over. And I am finally, at last, content





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