Suicide

I sit in the center of my bedroom floor and watch as the dark crimson fluid flows from my veins onto my pale skin and as it slowly drips onto the brown carpet. I drop the blade that is now covered in my blood as I fall backwards onto the icy ground. I close my teary, blue eyes.

'What causes me to do this? Why do I continuesly try and take my life, but cower before any damage is done?' I ask myself 'Why is today the day I think I am finally going to go through with it?' I think to myself as I feel my limbs grow heavier as the long seconds drag on.

'Is it because I'm just not meant to live happily? Wait... happy? Maybe that is why I am here... To live Hell and die painfully to bring happiness to others? Oh well, it's not like my shitty parents will give a fuck... They'll probably through a party or something... And it's not like I have any real friends that truely care about me, so I know that I won't be missed... Why must these sort of situations sound so selfish?'

I sit up and pain shoots up through my arm and I whimper but turn over until I am face first on the ground. I look over to where my arms are resting and slide them around to make thick trails of blood appear behind them. It stings a bit, but I don't care now... Once that act of randomness is over, I move my fingers around the pools of crimson liquid that has not yet been absourbed into the carpet and sigh. I use my other arm to reach for a stack of paper laying just inches away from me and drag a few sheets over and look around for a pen or pensel. I can't find one so I reach my now blood stained fingers over to where I dropped the knife. I run the tip of the blade over my bleeding flesh to accumulate some ink for my new pen. 'Wow...' I think, 'I've always wanted a pen that used blood for ink...' I smile at my own stupidity, I'm about to die and I'm making jokes...

Getting back to my task at hand, I finish obtaining enough blood so that I may write on the paper and I lightly place the tip of the knife on the paper, careful not to rip it, and begin to scribble down random thoughts and a small message.

Suddenly, a thought comes to mind: today is April Fools Day. That's why today is so special... This is supposed to be a prank... a fake suicide, if you would. But that all changed and it's all my mother's fucking fault. Wait... Why is it her fault again? Oh yes... I remember... It's because today I forgot to do all my chores today so she extended my grounding of everything for two months. Earlier this month she even took the telivison and computer out of my room... Oh yes, along with my radio. So now my lightbulb is the only electronic item located anywhere in my room. My so called father didn't even help out, he encouraged her to do all of this! I thought he at least showed somewhat love for me...

I'm so fucking tired of her fucking shit! I'm tired of life itself! I can't stand her anymore, and that's why I'm here right now; dieing in the middle of my room, while she and my bastard father are out getting drunk and having a good time without me. I'll bet this will be a damn good welcome home gift. They'll be looking for me, but all the same not giving a shit, thinking I'm just being my normal bitchy teenage self. Then BAM! They'll walk in here to find my corpse on the floor, surrounded in my own blood. Too bad I won't be able to see their, or anyone else's, reaction...

Hold on a second... Did I say that today is April first? If my memory is still correct, then today is my older twin brother and sister's birthday... Well, Happy Birthday my twin sibblings! Neither of you will have to watch out for your dumbass little sister anymore! I shall not ever bother nor get in you way again. In my opinion, you're getting a damn good present from me. The death of your most hated little sister.

My mind goes blank and my arms grow heavier, almost to where I cannot even hold them up anymore. The knife falls from my grasp once again and I lay my face on the floor. I close my eyes for, most likely, the last time and whisper weakly, "Here I come Death... Into thine arms I come... My pain will last no longer... Good-bye..."

Before these words have been compleatly spoken, the images of my past life and the people in it flash by. At the end I see a picture of Hell and what it will be like, but before I can take in any details, the last drop of life-supporting fluid falls and everything goes sinent and black.