End

I lie on the ground. Blood soaks my shirt. I can feel the warm liquid, which held my life, seeping out me. I know I should be dead, but I’m not. The pain overwhelms me, becomes one with me. And I want it to go away. After a while, my vision goes black around the edges. I welcome the darkness.

...

At first, the blackness feels peaceful. Then, I see a light, small at first, but slowly getting bigger. Once the light comes into focus, I realize it’s a screen, playing a video of my life. Now I’ve heard that you see your life flash before your eyes seconds before you die, but I didn’t think it was literal. I watch as my memories play out.

There’s the day I was 4, when I tried to swallow my mom’s pills so that I didn’t have to face my dad’s anger. All I had done was accidentally break his beer bottles.

There’s the day I was 8, and I tried to choke myself with my scarf because I was being bullied.

There’s the day I was 16, when I tried to run in front of a car so that I didn’t have to talk to my so called boyfriend.

There’s the day I was 23, when I tried to slot my wrists so that I didn’t have to deal with the baby I was pregnant with.

And then there was today, age 32, when I finally succeeded. I had shot myself in the chest, but just missed because of the force of the shot. But it still did the job. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here, reliving my most painful memories.

The movie was over. My life was done. I had finally achieved my dream of ending my life. But strangely, I felt empty. As of it didn’t bring any pleasure...

The light vanished, replaced by blinking lights. Red. Blue. Red. Blue. I heard murmuring voices. I cracked my eyes open. This can’t be happening. I looked up to see my mother and father, anger etched across their faces instead of worry. I could already imagine what would happen when I got home.

I hasn’t escaped my life. I had only made it worse.