Now and forever (dead end)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story about suicidal girl. What is it like, being suicidal?

Submitted: November 03, 2012

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Submitted: November 03, 2012



You take out the blade from your closet. You had to hide it from your friends and mother. They don't know that you cut. They have never known. Actually, you were unsure if they actually even cared.

"Good bye, mum, bro.. I will miss ya, mum. But, bro, you I hate with the full power of my heart. Those things you have done to me made me to do this. I am not afraid to say it out loud anyore. When I will be gone, I will still hate you. Now and forever. I hope the memory of my death bothers and haunts you forever. And all that stuff you did to me, don't you even concider of doing it to anyone else. I am turning myself with this into a warning example of what you can do to a person. I hope no girl loves you again, after this.

My friends, I will miss the very few of you. The ones who were my true friends. I didn't have too many of you, and I guess I haven't been the best possible friend you could ask for. I am stupid and useless, you must be so relieved now that I'm gone. I always felt like a bother, when you just silently listened to me. I am sorry that I couldn't act like nothing had happened.

My "friends", I wont miss you. I could hear all those rumours you spread. They weren't true. This is also your fault. I hate you. Did you think that I couldn't notice when you whispered with each other, laughed and pointed me behind my back? The only reason I was with you, was because you were friends with my real friends. Be kind to them, even though I hate you. Did you think that I didn't care when you said that I wasn't worth of your secrets? Did you really think it was okay with me that you took my stuff, lied and spread rumours? I am sorry if thats the impression you got.

Those who I wont even bother to mention: I wont miss you. 

Good bye all!"


Your hands shake when you write your name under the text for the last time. Your name sounds weird in your ears, as you accidentally say it out loud. You cut for the very last time, and take the letter, pressing it against your chest. 

You think no one cares. But you are wrong. 

In the evening your brother is the first one to find you. He knocks at your door, his voice is soft. He wasn't going to hurt you again, not this time. When you don't answer, he opens the door and calls you by your name a few times. He then notices your pale, white face and all the blood on the floor. He screams. He is scared. He doesn't know what to do.

He runs in the room, shakes you mumbling "Wake up, this isn't true. Wake up..." 

Some minutes later your mum comes home from work. She hears your brother screaming. She opens the door and sees you both. Then she falls on her knees, doesn't cry, just shouts. She picks out a book from the floor and throws it on the wall with anger. "Nooo", she keeps shouting. Your brother stands up and hugs your mum, who doesn't know what he has done to you. You are now gone, you can't even protect her, or anyone.

They call for ambulance. They tell them that you are gone. Your body is taken away.


Next day at school, your teacher tells your class about your suicide. They all look at his tear striped face. How could you do this? You were that happy person. Everyone could come for you, count on you. Your best friend just starts to cry, falls on the floor and screams. She doesn't stop in days. Just screams.

You bullies and "friends" feel awfull, quilty. Some of you bullies are now suicidal. Your best friend has bad anorexia, she starves herself day after day, to her slow and painful death. Another of your closest friends cuts. He can't stop. He can't get over you. 

Your mum lost her job, and she doesn't have money. She had to sell your apartment to buy a smaller one outside the town. Your brother left your mum and is living somewhere, sleeping with a different woman each night. 

Also, your mum was soon diagnosed with deep depression. And your teacher had to quit his job. 





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