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arghmusesit was ugly. it was always ugly and until the end of time - hers or the world's - it would stay that way.
could anything be done to fix the vile feelings? lots perhaps, however the image was so strong in her head that there seemed to be no other way. look for another way, yes of course she did! this was something she really didn't want, right?
it was cowardly, to want to end the misery she felt. she could already hear the voices of others in her mind: "you didn't think of your friends or of your family!"
but she did. how could she not? really? she was once in their shoes looking at the same once upon a time. she knew the pain it caused loved ones, to know that even though they were there, that they couldn't do anything to fix it. to fix her from feeling the way she did.
maybe it was selfish and cowardly, but sitting in the water that was so hot it looked cloudy, it felt right. as if there was no other choice for her but this. in some part of her mind, she had the clarity to wrap a string around the stopper and attach it to the tap, so whoever found her wouldn't have to have bloody water on their hands.
skin red from being in the water, a hand came out and with it a knife. there were no words for how she felt. misery, emptiness, ennui, indifferent...they were cliched and overused, but they were correct words. one couldn't really, truly describe the intensity of how empty they felt, how much pain coursed through their body from unknown means; unknown was the wrong term. it was of course, described by science as a chemical imbalance and pills would fix it. make it better.
the blade wasn't shiny like the others in the drawer; it was matte. perfect so she couldn't see her reflection in the blade, see her own despair and pain. the haunted reflection of a coward while she tried, attempted and for all her blinded views, wanted.
physical pain was so much different than psychological and emotional pain. physical pain would dull and stop. emotional would continue as long as the mind still fed imbalanced chemicals through a system. as long as memories of hurtful words still rose to the surface.
it was quick and sharp, warranting no more than a gasp, a thought of 'that was stupid!', only to be replaced with the commanding voice of 'this is what you want. the pain will pass and soon the empty feelings inside will be gone.'
red liquid heat from her wrist melded and swirled with the water. droplets looked like a perverse twist of cream designs falling into coffee, or food coloring in water.
the heat from the bath water relaxed her and the blood loss made her feel sleepy. it was all part of shock, what her body was feeling, it's reactions. it was okay, things were almost finished.
there was a note. it was printed up and sat on the table, awaiting the arrival of her family.
she wouldn't hear their cries, their angry voices, the desperate pleading. she was gone.
could anything be done to fix the vile feelings? lots perhaps, however the image was so strong in her head that there seemed to be no other way. look for another way, yes of course she did! this was something she really didn't want, right?
it was cowardly, to want to end the misery she felt. she could already hear the voices of others in her mind: "you didn't think of your friends or of your family!"
but she did. how could she not? really? she was once in their shoes looking at the same once upon a time. she knew the pain it caused loved ones, to know that even though they were there, that they couldn't do anything to fix it. to fix her from feeling the way she did.
maybe it was selfish and cowardly, but sitting in the water that was so hot it looked cloudy, it felt right. as if there was no other choice for her but this. in some part of her mind, she had the clarity to wrap a string around the stopper and attach it to the tap, so whoever found her wouldn't have to have bloody water on their hands.
skin red from being in the water, a hand came out and with it a knife. there were no words for how she felt. misery, emptiness, ennui, indifferent...they were cliched and overused, but they were correct words. one couldn't really, truly describe the intensity of how empty they felt, how much pain coursed through their body from unknown means; unknown was the wrong term. it was of course, described by science as a chemical imbalance and pills would fix it. make it better.
the blade wasn't shiny like the others in the drawer; it was matte. perfect so she couldn't see her reflection in the blade, see her own despair and pain. the haunted reflection of a coward while she tried, attempted and for all her blinded views, wanted.
physical pain was so much different than psychological and emotional pain. physical pain would dull and stop. emotional would continue as long as the mind still fed imbalanced chemicals through a system. as long as memories of hurtful words still rose to the surface.
it was quick and sharp, warranting no more than a gasp, a thought of 'that was stupid!', only to be replaced with the commanding voice of 'this is what you want. the pain will pass and soon the empty feelings inside will be gone.'
red liquid heat from her wrist melded and swirled with the water. droplets looked like a perverse twist of cream designs falling into coffee, or food coloring in water.
the heat from the bath water relaxed her and the blood loss made her feel sleepy. it was all part of shock, what her body was feeling, it's reactions. it was okay, things were almost finished.
there was a note. it was printed up and sat on the table, awaiting the arrival of her family.
she wouldn't hear their cries, their angry voices, the desperate pleading. she was gone.
