It starts with a thought; I think about all I have done with my life, all the people I have met. Then I start thinking about all the trouble I have caused them and how I have hurt them, I think of all times they were in trouble and I didn’t do anything.
‘But you weren’t even there.’
It doesn’t matter it’s my fault.
‘There was nothing you could do to help them.’
It doesn’t matter.
A sick feeling enters my stomach and there is a tight pinch in my chest that makes it hard for me to breath.
The thoughts still run through my mind.
It’s all my fault, I’m useless.
I feel like I’m going to be sick.
Everything would be better if I was dead.
My chest becomes tighter and it gets harder for me to breath.
I wish I was dead.
I want to cry, I want to scream.
I wish I was dead.
I try to scream but the sound gets caught in my dry throat.
Everything would be better if I was dead.
My eyes prick with tears that won’t come.
I wish I was dead.
I reach up to my head with my hand; I want to stop but I can’t. There is an itch under my skin that I need to end. My fingers look for that perfect, thick, black hair.
I wish I was dead.
My fingers find that perfect hair.
I want to stop, but I can’t.
My wrist twitches and my hand pull out that hair. A wave of calm washes over me and the sick feeling ends.
YOU ARE READING
Falling Inside the Black
Short StoryShort stories about the things that go in inside my head and how I think. This is really just me venting my emotions so some of it might not make sence and be dark and morbid but some times there will be a few good times in here.
