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Let Me Jump To My Death

Short story By: elphabalives17

Britany couldnt stand the thought of living, the thought of more pain, of loosing more freinds. Her mind lives in a dream, and she wants no more of it. When she is gone, maybe she will rule as the queen of hell. But thats only if she can get there first.

Submitted:Mar 16, 2009    Reads: 106    Comments: 0    Likes: 1   

I focused my eyes on the prize- the bucket of chocolate in Manna's long thin hands- as I chased her around the room. "Screw Lent!" growled, almost catching her on a turn. We were at seperate ends of the desks now, both of us faking back and forth, "OI need the damned chocolate! PLEASE! I-I-I'll give up... POP!" I was begging, but as Dr. Traylor smiled the smile that made her look 39 yrs younger and laughed along with Jeffery, who was a freshman boy who had happened to decide to come to our social studys bowl practice this day, a Monday.

These meetings were my refuge. I was myself here, I was one with freinds, food, comfort, and learning. To the rest of the world... I was barley alive. I admit that I would be a cutter if it werent for an extremeley freakish phobia of sharp and pointy things near my skin, the most exhilirating and inilating fear possible to people. The weird thing: I was obsessed with vampired in my dreams, but wasnt i allready living a crappy one?

Suddenly my phone, a voyager LG i worked to deatha and wich Id come a bit to close to breaking twice, buzzed with a new message in the pocket of my ass tight jeans. Manna and Mazette teased me for it, and some times I wondered if they were even female, because one most girls prefer tight pants and 2 who in the hell likes baggy pants, eeeewwww! I knew the message was from Luke, and I could allready guess what my poor depressed freind had said.

Luke was depressed for many reasons. One, his mom was in a very bad position health wise. Two, he got beat up at Clark, the school he went to. Three, he wasnt sure if he could get the scholarship to go to Rivet where I go. Four,he wasnt sure if hed be excepted by the guys in my small class, only made up of 50. And five, hed just broke up with the girl he thought he might be in love with, Tyla. It upset him, and these things combined created a shitload of a mess for my poor best freind. But, since I knew hed said 'wat' to my 'gess wat!?!?!' txt, I was about to solve problem four!

I opened the message... Why was it so long?

britany, i am sry, but i cant be frends..... being ur freind just reminds me to much of tyla.... this is goodbye brittney.

what, luke, no! Thats not fair!

im sorry britany... goddbye.

i hate you! if you really dont want to b frends, i never want 2 c u agian! its to bad u didnt wait, i could have solved two of your problems!

goodbye, britany

i hate you luke. and dont reply. i never want to see you or hear your name agian!

I stared at the phone in dull horror, hating the sudden five minute phone conversation. I showed it to Molly who had hidden the chocolate. "Well he got the short thing right" she remarked, but I only pretended to laugh after that, i didnt want to show my hurt to the world. The idea of blackness began to seep in. I was tired of loosing my freinds, so many leaving and coming ang going and taking peices of me with them to destroy me. No more.

Later that night, I reread my whole diary, and added another to my list of lost freinds. I had given my trust and a small chunk of my heart to each of the 7 people on the list. And from me they were all gone. What was worth living for in that. I looked in the mirror. No, nothing to live for in the most hideous reflection in the world. Every worthless inch of me rang in defeat and loss and greif and despise... and lack of love. Maybe I read kill me now, but I couldnt actually say kill me now, bewcause i would rather kill myself, and I knew exactly how...

itll look like an accident... hide the phone, hide the journal... delete, delete, delete....

i pounded up the hilly driveway, deep in the country and surrounded by the feilds and a few other houses on a 'main street' with broad yards. It was the nice area that many people enjoy. I used to, when I still could enjoy anything. My memories from and of joy were so simple and shallow... As I went into dream mode, tears ran down my chheks. I would miss this one form of peace I had had while I sunbathed in the gentle caressing fires of hell, while the demons worshipped me as a queen. I could be beautifull there. THis world was all hate and death and despise.

My meighbor, once a freind, we still talked, he was peace when we werent having troubles, waved to me from his yard, wich was getting farther away. In the instant i lifted my face to him with a chest racking sob and broken smile, he saw the tears and began to come towards me. And I ran away. I saw him retreat, runnig at the place he keeps his bike. So i ran faster. And then I was there, off the main road, running down the soft barely wet packed down earth between the smoothly running creek so far down and the forests slumping higher up. The bridge was close.

Oh the beautifull bridge! The Indians bridge, narrow and of woood once, then metal, worn doen, boards and planks long gone. Only the narrow crumbling cement posts supporting creaking, breaking rusty peices of long metal. and a peice of chain. Below, in a place only I know of, are the others. The other journals. I wont even disclose the place her. But I wouldna be the first person of any race or ethnicy or gender that hid their things her before they left and went on. One I would have loved. He seemed to be looking for me. But when I'd looked him up, he was long dead. But I hid my diary beside his thicvk journal, wrapping them together forever with a vine of grasses and stems, one of many id made sitting on those banks.

And then I crawled out onto one of the beams, and just satt there.

DId I have the courage to give up my life, to become whom I wanted to? I wish I did. But maybe I would never. I saw Nick coming close, fast.

He is screaming for me to get off the bridge, and as fast as I can. Oh, but wouldnt I love to right now, I am thinking to myslef, he has said the wrong thing... Maybe i will listen to him! So i am standing up, and shaking wildly. The maetl is shaking and protesting agianst my harsh weight. This is the end then. But then he is here, off the bike at the end of the bridge, pleading with me with scared ehyes and cracking voice. He will live through it though, I know that. Even now I am a bad joker. Figures. I am bad at living this life in general.But I understand. I will wait till later than. When he isnt there to feel guilty for not stopping me. My diary is ready. I will come back one day. But my freind will not let me now. He will not let me jump to death. I canonly feel better that someone cares as we are riding home in silence, me stnading on the spokes behind him as usual, face buried into his head. he sighs of nerves, contentment, and cinfusion. But I am not going to explain. And I will jump.They cant stop me twice.


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