Suicide

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Health and Fitness  |  House: Booksie Classic


A short story about the effects on suicide on people.

Submitted: August 02, 2018

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Submitted: August 02, 2018

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Suicide

 

I can’t understand why these things happen but I try to comprehend it. Look for the any mysteries that it is telling me but I can’t see it. A loop that plays in my head, never trying to escape but blending in. Hidden but always glowing, showing its position which I am not able to clearly see. If only it were like math, the problem would probably be solved with a quick calculation, one that would end the burden, I am chained to, cursed to, always seeing the mistake I sacrificed too much to endure. What or who killed her? I had 4 suspects who mock me for the time that is flying past. Tick Tock, Tick Tock, each sound filling me with pain and stabbing the hand I am using to hold on, making I don’t fall and never return. If I don’t find the suspect, I may never rest in peace, but why can’t I see it? Why can’t I touch what is staring at me, tempting me to hold it and strangle it until it is gone?

Like father, like son. The words that started all of this: the voice that would never stop banging on the door. No matter how much I said no, it would just laugh, knowing how inferior I was, how I would say stop but would never explained what it should stop, stop banging the door or stop waking me up. I am an island with no connects to other countries, just standing in the ocean and being washed away as I made no efforts to defend myself.

The worst was yesterday, happy and laughing, not aware of the future that would lead to a memory of me. I picked up a call and put it down slowly, knowing what I had to do to stop the walls that are cracked from falling down on me. I was blind but now, I see, see the possible consequences of my actions, so then I…I…

I woke up from my daydream and started walking to the bathroom, walking through wet carpet that released disturbing thoughts into my brain. When I got to the bathroom, I looked up, washed my face with the water that was dripping slowly, and then looked at the mirror. The mirror that showed me my answer, the answer that mocked me was now revealed. But the sad part was how I had hidden it, hidden it from my family and everybody I knew.

Suspect no. 1: suicidal thoughts

Suspect no. 2: Sadness

Suspect no. 3: Scared

Suspect no. 4: Me

All because of someone who knew about my relationship(s).

I regretted my existence, the pain that caused my loved ones to die, especially my child. “Do it, what else is there? Just one drip can cause you to be relived.” This kept playing and dancing in my mind, the door was breaking and there was no escape, nothing I could do would stop the inevitable from happening, I walked to the door and opened but nothing was there. I was baffled, wondering what had been causing the traffic jams in my thoughts so I took a step outside and everything went black. And the words that made me realized what I had done said “Welcome to hell.”

Signed, In.Write


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