Author: BipolarUnicornMonster PM
A short one shot about suicide. Ugh, this is so old. ALL if this stuff is so OLD. I really should at least TRY and fix some of it...Rated: Fiction T - English - Tragedy/Horror - Words: 499 - Reviews: 8 - Favs: 5 - Published: 06-16-11 - Status: Complete - id: 2924240
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
She sat atop the roof of her house, clinging to her razor and fighting tears. Her gaze rest upon the ground over the edge of the roof, concrete sidewalk some 40 feet down.
Digging the razor into her flesh she traced an old scar, she welcomed the familiar feeling of the blade on her skin; feeling slightly better after the pain was coming and the blood was flowing. But not that much better.
She usually would never cut in a place that someone could see her. But no one was here. They were gone.
Her mother lay in the hospital, dying slowly by cancer. Her father was at her mothers side, but not because he really cared about her dying. More so that he cared about having to take care of the children. And the house. And the bills.
He'd rather just continue wasting their money on alcohol, fueling his fiery temper and adding to her mother's sadness.
Once mother was gone, there would be no one to semi-calm father down from his neurotic fits.
She would get the worst of the beating again. As would her brother. If he wasn't to busy doing drugs...
She created another scar; adding to the sad story of the girl who drew them. Adding to the painful evidence that she was not normal.
She was a freak. A freak with nothing to lose.
She looked again downwards, feeling light-headed and weak. Now allowing the tears to fall freely. She stood up shakily, not attempting to stop the blood from pouring down her wrist, droplets landing on the roof with a dull thud. Tears streamed down her face, adding to the sad appearance of the petite brunette. Her Goth clothing aided many in their claims that she was a freak. Most people at her high school would be glad she was gone. And although she had a few friends, she doubted they would care that much. Whenever they were together she barley did or said anything.
She was only there. Like a ghost. Invisible.
She approached the edge carefully, teetering near the side.
She though warily of her favorite song, which was ironically 'Rooftops' by Melissa McClelland.
She took another step forward, now half on and half off the roof. She closed her eyes and breathed. It started to rain.
She waited silently as the water fell around her, rain pouring and soaking her; causing her heavy black eyeliner to smear. Not that she cared. It was over.
She opened her eyes and spread out her arms, and then she slowly fell forward.
The roof slips beneath my feet
She tucked in her arms as she started to fall.
As the branches back away from me
She approached the hard ground fast, closing her eyes as she did so.
And the softest grass turns to concrete.
Her final breaths.
But I will fly,
Seconds away from impact.
I will fly,
Her very last breath.
You will see…