Slice, Slit, Slip and That's the End

The Unforgettable Sound

Rating: R

It's an interesting feeling. The sharp razor in your hand, the slice of your skin, the dark red liquid spilling onto whatever is near you.

Okay, so call me crazy. If I cared, I wouldn't be writing this. I'd be with my "I'm-110-straight-it's-my-brother-that's-gay" brother, Nick, in the mental hospital, getting help. If I cared. And I don't.

Are you aware that you're reading my suicide note? You are. Yes indeed, this is the last you'll hear of Travis Rogers.

What I don't get is that I can't be accepted. I wasn't only in fights at school because I was gay. I was also beaten up by my brother for being openly gay and ruining his rep. Besides, it's not like I never fought back.

My parents don't care. In fact, they don't even know. I mean, I told them. But Mom was high and Dad was drunk. They have no fucking clue that the first guy I fucked was Kenny.

No, not the dog, you retard. The neighbor's 13-year-old son. I don't feel guilty for taking his virginity at such a young age, either. But then again, according to a lot of people, I'm crazy. You've got to learn to expect such from a crazy person.

So here I am, writing this on my computer while holding a razor, ready so that when the last word-no, letter- is forever burned into this computers memory I can slice a wrist, drop the razor trying to slit the other, slipp while looking for the razor, and slice my neck.

Slice, slit, slip and that's the end. My lifetime motto. Themotto I live by.

I mean, can you blame me? I've got no friends, a completely fucked family, and a reputation as 'Ms. Faggot' at school. Mmm. Try to stop me from doing this.

Yep. It's all been planned. What a smart little minion you are. How long? Months. Why? Reasons listed above.

Okay. Now I'm going to do it. I'm going to leave this hellhole forever. Goodbye.