Story of J

Chapter 11

We've been cuddling on E's bed for awhile now and my head is just buzzing with so many thoughts. I just need them to stop, and there is only one way that can happen.

“I have to go to the washroom”, I casually say as I unwrap myself from E.

“Okay, just go down the walkway and it's the last door on the right.”

I thank him and walk out of the his room to the washroom.

I close the door and try to lock it, but there's no lock. Oh well, let's just pray that E doesn't come in. I start rummaging through the drawers I'm Hope's to find something sharp. I come across a pair of scissors. I clean them to make sure that they dont leave an infection and search for some sort of band aid. I eventually find one.

Looking myself in the mirror, I can't understand how E is being so nice to me. I'm nobody. I'm ugly, too skinny, my whole life is a mess. I never should have been born. I should just go join my dad.

I raise the blades of the scissors to my hip, so then E won't see the fresh cuts. And I just drag the blade along my hip. Back and forth. Each drag a new cut.

By the time my mind is no longer spinning, my hip is marked up. I grab the band aids that I found and quickly place them on the wounds.

Once I am satisfied with the work I have done, I make my towards E's room. As I re enter his room, he is patiently waiting my return.

“You were gone for awhile”, he remarks to me, “what took so long?”

“Oh yeah, I just zoned out for a bit”, I say while chuckling trying to cover up what I was actually up to.

“Okay”, he hesitantly replies.

Hours pass and E is now around asleep. I'm wide awake as my head can't stop swirling. I carefully unwrap E’s grasp from around my waist and make my way out of his house.

Making my way out he door, I put in the address of my safe place.

The park that is near the cemetery. I used to come here everyday with my parents when I was younger and then I used to go to the cemetery every day after my dad died. The park and the cemetery has become my safe place. The place where I feel at peace with myself. The only place where I can be myself and not have anyone judge me.

But yet today, I come here to die. I can't stand being alive any longer. The memories are killing me, the people are killing me, myself is killing me. Everything is just killing me. And I think I just may let it. The consent thought of harming myself whenever I see a sharp object just to feel something. Just to feel like myself again.

I didn't bring anything with me to kill myself with but I should have. I would already be in a better place. And to top it all off, no one would even notice that in gone. I have no friends that actually are about me, my step dad kicked me out, and my own mother doesn't even care about me. No one would care if I never be a part of their lives again. No one.