Suicidal Consequences

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
When a suicide has consequences.

Submitted: January 18, 2013

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Submitted: January 18, 2013

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I stood on the edge of the bridge debating whether or not this was a good decision. Images of the last three days were flashing in my head so fast it was all a blur. Cars zooming behind me were an instant reminder that this was not a dream. Tears stream down my face, there is no way out. I make a quick decision and jump. Even though the fall was less than ten seconds, it seemed as though it was a lifetime. My bones shatter as I hit the concrete-like water.  My lungs gasp for air, yet only water is there to fill them. With my life dangling in front in front of me, I am forced to face my fate. Just when I think it’s all over, I feel a tugging on the back of my hoodie.

 

I suddenly awoke in my bed puzzled of how I got there. My clothes were dry and my bones were unharmed. I took the knife from my bedside and I struggled to cut my wrists and finish the job. Since I wasn’t able to the previous night. I had to find my friend Luke so I could tell him about my strange night.  I found him wondering around the back of the library. It was a normal hangout for the teenagers of Hawiki Meadows, yet only one other person was there besides Luke. Confused about what happened the night before, I hugged Luke. He instantly burst on fire. The flame was white, making him just ashes blowing in the wind within five seconds.

 

What just happened? I thought. Tears flow down my face. The other person came to comfort me. The exact moment he put his arm around me, his wrists were sliced open by the air. He bled to death right in front of me. I knew I had to vanish. It was not even an option to stay in this town surrounded by my family and friends, so I did the one thing I could, I ascended away from the scene and bolted into the woods.

 

Wandering through the woods was not pleasant. Constant noises rang in my ears. It was as if voices were calling out my name. Even though I was stumbling in the opposite direction, the voices did not hush. I tried walking faster. I stepped on a ridged rock. A sharp pain shooting up my leg and through my spine made me realize I lacked shoes. This was odd because I remembered having them about two hours ago when I started my journey into the woods. I pushed myself to travel further; I would be able to acquire shoes in the next town. Within the next hour I encountered a campsite. Broken glass lay everywhere. My head started spinning and I fainted.

Someone crying out “Miss! Miss!”  Pierced my mind. When I obtained consciousness, a petite girl, probably about the age of six, was standing ten feet away from me.  Her hands were stained deep red, the color of blood. Her voice deepened into what seemed like a forty year old man. She started screaming “Why!” over and over. I ran away from the scene. After my laborious trip of about four hours through the woods, I made it to the edge.

 

I was taken back by what I saw. I was standing in front of Hawaiki Meadows, the town I had just traveled four hours away from. This was not possible. My town had fifty people in it and I didn’t want to harm another precious life by touching one of them. I ran to the bowling alley, making sure not to make eye contact with anyone. Once I got there, I went straight to the bathroom. I remember my friends joking about how there was a gun under the floorboard in the bowling alley bathroom. After ripping up about twenty floorboards, I was face to face with the pistol. I checked for bullets. To my surprise, there was a bullet, but just one. Thankfully one was all I needed. I shoved the front of the gun in my mouth to insure I wouldn’t miss. Wishing my life away, I pulled the trigger.

 

Nothing came out of the gun. I checked again to see that there was a bullet. It was missing. How could a bullet dematerialize within seconds? Frustrated, I threw the gun down and dashed toward the door. On the way out I ran into two ladies going into the bathroom. I froze. It had happened again. I touched someone. One of the girls started choking. Water was pouring out of her mouth. It was as if she was drowning out of nowhere. The second girl slowly edged her way toward the gun. As soon as she picked it up, it fired. Blood spattered everywhere. Horrified, I sprinted home.

 

When I opened the front door six eyes lay upon me. It was my family. They didn’t say a word, they just stared. I went straight to my room.  Thinking about my day, I came to the conclusion that everyone I touch dies. I needed to find another way to kill myself.  I’ve hurt to many already.  It is hard for my brain to comprehend what I am now capable of. The worse part is I don’t know how they will die. Its random every time, yet no matter what way it is, it is always excruciating.  An idea pops into my brain. How did I not think of this before?

 

I inched my way toward the garage. The second I got there; I went straight to the supply drawer. I pulled out my lighter. Once I found where my father keeps the gasoline, I soaked my body in it. Desperate not to harm any others, I frantically tried to light the lighter. It wasn’t working. My plan was ruined. I rushed to the kitchen and grabbed the bleach bottle under the sink. Within five minutes, I probably drank two gallons of bleach. It did not affect my body, much less the fact that my stomach shouldn’t be able to hold two gallons. On the way back to my room, I happen to bump into my mom. She started choking on bleach, no matter how hard I tried to make it stop, it wouldn’t.  I was stuck here, not being able to harm myself, only others.

 

I stood on the edge of the bridge debating whether or not this was a good decision. Images of the last three days were flashing in my head so fast it was all a blur. Cars zooming behind me were an instant reminder that this was not a dream. Tears stream down my face, there is no way out. I make a quick decision and jump. Even though the fall was less than ten seconds, it seemed as though it was a lifetime. My bones shatter as I hit the concrete-like water.  My lungs gasp for air, yet only water is there to fill them. With my life dangling in front in front of me, I am forced to face my fate. I die. I am quickly fished out of the water and tons of people surround me. Hearing about the accident, my mother shows up. She hurries toward my lifeless body. With tears streaming down her face she is sure I am lost forever. Little did she know that I wasn’t lost. I was in a place where I thought I was alive. A place where I couldn’t harm myself only others. Where all of my attempts to murder myself were just reversed on whomever I touched. I was trapped. Trapped in my own personal hell.

 


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