At Seventeen years old, he paces back and forth
at home. He just arrived here after school. Staring blankly at
the pale blue walls, he thinks "what did I do wrong?" Then he
repeats it aloud to himself, over and over again. Until it's a
chant; until the words lose their meaning… Until he is screaming
the words, meaningless as they are. His one love broke up with
Now he pounds his fists against the wall, he
tugs at his clothing. But this does not satisfy him. He falls
down to his fragile knees, hot tears streaming down his face. His
tears blind him and he surrenders, letting his sobbing grow
louder. Then an idea reaches into his mind- an idea that he had
felt many times before. He pulls up his sleeves to adore the
white scars on his arm. Then he runs up to his room to find his
razorblade. Soon, the soothing feeling of blood trickling down
his skin reassures him that he is alive, yet he frowns. This did
not give him the usual relief as it should. This did not satisfy
He panics. How could he have lost her? The only
one- the only thing- he loved. She was his sunshine- the one who
could make him feel better no matter what. She saved him from
himself. And now she's gone he thought to himself.
She's not coming back. He felt all the air drain out of
his lungs. And then back in. The room fell silent, except for the
clock in the hall.
His sister would be home soon.
His mom would too.
Normally, he would clean up his arm and hide
the cut with a long sleeve shirt. If this had been any other day,
he would dry his eyes and put on a fake smile.
But not today, today was different. Today he
had lost the one thing that meant something to him in this world.
The one thing that would ever comfort him. This life wasn't even
worth living anymore, at least that's what he thought. Maybe you
can predict what happened next.
I wish I could have been there. I wish I could
have been the one to save him; to say "don't do it, it'll be
okay. Everything will work out. I'm here for you!"I wish I would
have taken his hand in mine and given him a smile. I wish I was
there to take away his car keys- to open the garage door…
But the fact of the matter is- I
So instead, he looped his car keys around his
finger and sent out to the garage. He did not open the garage
door, but rather hopped in to the driver's seat in his car. He
turned it on and rolled down all the windows. He let the gasoline
fill the entire room- he let it fill his lungs, too. He coughed
up blood, he was suffocating. But he did not stop. Instead, he
smiled. He was going to leave this world soon. He thought of his
family and his friends, wondering what would happen once they
His mother would bring his sister home from
school and stop home before taking her to soccer practice. She
would say "I'm home!" But there would be no one to respond to
her. She would search the house, not finding her son. She figures
he was at a friend's house, so she checks the garage to see if
his car is gone. It's not. But all the windows are rolled down.
Curious, she strides into the cold room. She coughs, what's
that smell? She has no idea what she is about to see. Gazing
into the car, a wave of horror would ripple through her entire
body. There is her son- drenched in blood… She lets out a
He smiled as he thought of this. At least
somebody cares. Oh, if only he knew how much I cared. I love
him immensely, unconditionally, and blindly.
He inhales deeper and deeper, until chemicals
swell inside his lungs. His muscles relax…
Until he is dead.
I never knew my Uncle because-as you now know-
suicide had taken him away from this world before I had been
born. I don't even know his name because my relatives hate
talking about his death. But he will always have a piece of my
heart in his grave. I will always be his niece, even when death
or perhaps even suicide takes my life away as well.
~I love you, Uncle :) I hope you are happy,
wherever you are now.~