All the little things

My Dearest Mother and Sister,

I am so sorry for what I am about to do. It pains me more than you will ever know, but the fierce depression in my heart is something I can no longer withstand. Something I have beared for many years now, and it has finally taken my last breath from me.

Forever yours,
Anna.


I lay on the grass outside my house. I stared darkly at the sky, which was itself a glistening pool of blue light burning my eyes. I had felt it coming. This deeply disturbing mood that echoed through my soul. Eating it. Taking it. Making it no more. It was no specific event causing me to feel this way. It was everything. From the ugliest landscape to the most beautiful bird, most everything I saw destroyed my already broken spirit.
It was not that it pained me to see these things. It was that I felt nothing for them. Nothing stirred even the slightest glimpse of hope in me. Or anger. Or fear. Or happiness. Especially happiness. It was such a foreign concept to me now that I could not even define it. I felt I had absolutely nothing to live for in this vast expanse of monotony that was called life.
People were so predictable. So weak. So insecure. So selfish. And though I speak in a general way, I am by no means forgetting the little things. It was the little things that bothered me the most. The way the trees lose their leaves. Again and again and again. The hair, the makeup, the tv, the laughing at ridiculous vulgar jokes, the drugs, the pressure, the bullies, the victims, the way my stupid little sister talks about meaningless, insignificant waste and how it spews out of her naïve lips like verbal vomit.
And here she is. With her hair and her make up and her smile. I loved her and I hated her and I envied her ignorant bliss.
She waved. I stared at her, wishing I could cry or scream or laugh. But I could not and I looked away. Back into the endless black whole of a sky and I wished it would swallow me. I felt very much alone. I felt no one could understand, and never would understand.
I slowly rose up off the grass. I walked slowly towards the door of the house. The big red door. I glared at it and pushed it slowly open. I was heading for the kitchen. And when I got there I stopped and my eyes rested on something. It was a note. I began to read, My Dearest Mother and Sister….
When I had finished I ran upstairs. Where I found Anna, my baby sister hanging from the ceiling. There was no smile lingering on her face, just the cold face of death. I dropped to my knees and screamed. And then all the little things went away.