Author: CinnamonRepublic PM
She wanted her suicide to be clean and peaceful. Was it not an understandable goal?Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Horror/Hurt/Comfort - Words: 922 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 1 - Published: 09-12-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3057855
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A peaceful suicide, that was what the girl would have for herself. Peaceful was something most suicides were not. Most suicides were done in moments of torment and anguish, fierce hurt and agony. She did not want to die in such a moment. Life was painful enough, full of misery and cruelty (hence why she decided to end her life in the first place). She didn't want death to be as terrible as life. Many suicides were committed violently, blood gushing out of slit wrists in the bathtub, or brains and skull fragments splattering on the living room wall. She didn't want a violent death either, she wanted a nice clean death. One that would leave all her body in one piece. Overdosing on something would be the most obvious choice here, but that was also not how she wanted to end herself. It just didn't appeal to her. She was far from a fan of medication, she thought it was poison. She refused to take the medication that was prescribed to her and she did now want to die by swallowing poison. That would be painful, she knew it would be painful. It would feel like acid flowing through her veins, she just knew it would.
But what else to do? What was a serene, clean way to die? She supposed she could starve herself, or dehydrate herself, but that would take much too long. She wanted to die quickly, didn't want to suffer. Suffering was the reason she was doing this. So what could she do? She sat down on her plush couch and put a finger to her beautiful full lips. What do, what to do? Then it hit her. Being buried alive. People would only survive three minutes without air (usually) and it would be a clean way to go. Her body would remain in tact. But how could she bury herself alive? She would need help for that…No. No she didn't need help, she would do it herself. All she'd have to do, is borrow a coffin. Right then she hopped up with the idea and rushed to the door, flinging it open and jogging outside. She took a deep breath of the fresh night air and looked up at the full round moon, shining brightly in the inky black sky. It was a beautiful night, a beautiful night for a peaceful suicide.
She smiled softly, finding comfort in this. It was truly the right time to end her life, nature agreed with her. The moon was a sure sign of that. So she skipped merrily to her garage, humming a sweet tune she did not remember the name of as she did so. She cheerfully plucked the shovel off of its hook in the wall and walked all the way to her destination, the local graveyard. Easily she climbed over the tall wrought iron fence, hooking her legs over the side and then springing off of it. She was always a very agile person, flexible and lithe. Climbing fences, even tall ones, were was not a problem for her limber body. She giggled gleefully as she waved through the gravestones, looking at them all closely under the silvery moonlight. She needed to find one that would be easy to dig up. A fresh one. So she continued to hum that sweet forgotten song and continued to search through the graves until she found one. "Oh good!" She exclaimed loudly, and quickly began to shovel up the soft dirt which had yet to grow any grass. She dug and dug and dug, until she felt the blade of her shovel hit the hard wood of the coffin. Grinning impishly she hopped down into the grave, scooting back and pressing herself into the dirt so she had enough room to open the coffin lid. She did so and gazed for a moment at the man who rested in it.
He was a handsome man, very young it appeared. She could tell even with only the moon as light that not a single wrinkle crossed his face. He couldn't be out of his twenties, he hardly looked like he had reached those. She wondered what he died off, and if perhaps he was murdered. Surely such a young man wouldn't have died naturally? She couldn't see any injuries on him, but perhaps she could blame that on the darkness. Or maybe he was poisoned, maybe people had given him the same poison she refused to take. Oh well, no point in thinking about that. She was here to die, not to idly ponder the demise of another. She knew she was not strong enough to lift his corpse out of the coffin, so she did not even try. Instead she laid down on top of him, her warm living body pressed back against his frigid dead one. She took in the last breath she ever would and closed the lid of the coffin. It was a VERY tight fit, but she still fit nonetheless. She smiled inside it, for now she would die and she would die in the peaceful suicide she'd longed for. It was even better than she thought it would be, for she had company in death. In the stale darkness she felt the body that lay under her until she feel the icy fingers at his side. She curled her hand around his and closed her eyes, exhaling the breath she'd taken in of the outside air and waiting for it all to run out.