(before you start i wrote this shit when i was like 12 but dont wanna delete it bc it got so many reads anyway it sucks)
Kenny returned home. His parents were fighting in the living room, as usual. Completely unaware of Kenny being home. He walked straight to his bedroom, sat on his bed, not even hesitating to pick up the knife he had been hiding in his dresser drawer. He did it again... cut after cut as tears rolled down his face.
Emptiness. Anxiety. Worthless, useless, waste of space.
He wasn't wanted, not needed. Not even cared for if...
Kenny had found a rope from his yard amongst all the other useless stuff anf piles of trash a few weeks ago and decided to keep it, just in case he had use for it. And finally he did. After a few attempts of doing the right knot, he succeeded. Kenny grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and wrote a short letter for someone to find. He placed the note on his drawer. Kenny then moved a chair to the middle of the room and stepped on it to reach up to the lamp on his ceiling. He tied the rope into it, hoping it would carry the weight of his body. He put the loop on the other end of the rope around his own neck.
And stepped off.
YOU ARE READING
Kenny Is Not Okay
Random(TRIGGER WARNING: suicide attempts, self-harm, suicidal thoughts/intentions) One day, Kenny's depression gets really bad and he wants to die.
