The Day I Died

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Review Chain
I've been challenging myself to write something at least once a day each morning. The other day I zoned out for a bit and just let the words flow and before I knew it something dark took shape.

I'd like to do something more from writing this, maybe expand it into something longer. I'll just have to wait for another burst of inspiration for it, which may be hard.

Submitted: October 17, 2016

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Submitted: October 17, 2016

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The Day I Died

 

On the day I died it was like any other. The leaves were turning brown, they laid scattered on the yard almost covering the green grass. I remember it was just cold enough to see my breath. My mother was trying to rush us to her van so we would not be late to school; it was only a few days before Halloween.

 

I was going to be a nurse this year only because I found out the boy I liked was going as a doctor to jenny’s party. I was invited to it but there wasn’t harm in trying anyways. On the outside if you looked at me, it would seem as if I was just an ordinary teenage girl.

 

Normal life

Normal friends

Normal house

Normal family

 

But on the inside, it was like looking into a black hole. Like you were staring death in the eyes and all that remained inside the shell of flesh you called a body was despair. Because even with all of those normal things, I never truly felt alive. There were glimpses of hope though, tiny specs of light that would make me believe in something better. They never did last very long though.

 

Was there mention yet on how it was I made myself able to feel anything? Even for just a moment? Well let me tell you. In our garage was a toolbox and in that box were razor blades used for scraping things. I stole one.

 

It sat in a box under my mattress for weeks as I contemplated what it was I wanted to do. Then one late night after everyone had gone to sleep, out came the box. My fingers pinched and griped the sides that were dull then slowly brought to blade near my forearm. The blade then lightly grazed over my skin just deep enough to look like a normal scratch. It was like electricity coursing through me. Adrenaline began to pump in my veins from the excitement.

 

So I did it again.

And Again.

And Again.

 

Before I knew it my arm was covered in red, slowly dripping down to the floor and forever engraving itself into the wood. Time passed by, what felt like hours. By this point a puddle had formed and something started running down my cheek. It was a tear. A single tear shed in my final breaths as my subconscious realized I was about to die.

 

And then I did.

 

That was the day I died.

 


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