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I'm here once again. The razor is in my hand. The blood makes it way down the side of my wrist and slowly falls onto the counter. I watch my blood with fascination. The deep crimson color entrances my eyes. No one is here. I could end it if I wanted to. I silently turn the faucet on, and begin to wash away the blood. Water slowly turns to a light red. It whirls around a few times before going down the drain. I take a clean hand towel and put pressure to my wrist. Trying to make the wound stop bleeding. The events of the day unfold in front of my eyes like a bad dream. The fighting. The hating. It would be so easy. Tears that have been held in too long slide down my cheek. I sit down on the cold hard floor and think of my few possibilities. School will be starting again soon. But that didn't mean it would get better. Probably just worse. My parents would be home soon. But once again that doesn't make it seem any better. My one escape aside from cutting is writing. But lately, that hasn't been helping either. Maybe it would just be better to give up. A few deep cuts and it would be all over. I stand up and open the bathroom door. Making my way down the hallway, I take a right and enter my room. Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen I start to make my suicide letter.
Mom and Dad,
I don't know how to explain it to you. To make you realize how much you hurt me. How ever day in my life felt like a war with you. You've never understood me.
I break off for a moment. Its more painful to write the letter than to do the deed. My body starts to shake as my silent tears turn into sobs. I take a few minutes to calm down. Then I take up my letter, and start where I left off.
And you probably never would have. I could tell you all the wrong in my life. But that would be a long and boring story that you probably wouldn't believe anyways. I've tried my best to live through the tough times. But I just can't do this anymore. I've tried but I've failed. I'm sorry that I wasn't the daughter you always wanted. Maybe one day you'll have her. I can't say I love you. Because truly, I don't believe I do. I care about you, because you're my parents, but I do not love you. This is my final goodbye. Maybe one day, you'll understand why I've done this. But then again, you might not…
There. I've finished it. I leave my room and put the letter down on the coffee table so they can find it. I'm a little scared of what I'm doing. But in my mind, this is the only choice left. I wonder what people normally think when they're about to go through with this? Once again I'm in the bathroom. I grab the razor and look at it. It seems to gleam in the light. I know its sharp, yet I test it against the tip of my finger. A thin line appears. It could almost pass off as a paper cut. But I know better. I take the razor towards my wrist, but feel hesitant. What' s wrong with me? I've done this before. But somewhere in my mind, I know this is not the same. This will be the last time. And with that final realization, my mind becomes numb. My actions almost seem automatic. The only difference than before is the way I'm cutting. Instead of across, I run the blade down the whole of my forearm. Blood begins to come out quickly. Pain sears through my entire arm. I feel dizzy, and shake a little. I turn around, but even though I've stopped turning, the world hasn't. I go to sit down on the toilet, but misjudge the distance and end up on the floor. So this is what it feels like to be dying? Was my last conscious thought. Slowly, I begin to drift away. My eye lids feel heavy and I'm feeling pretty cold. I hear a car pull into the driveway. Voices from the entrance are heard. Then suddenly, someone's there. They might as well be talking in Greek, for all that I can understand. But now my hearing is leaving me too. I try to look up at whoever's here. I cannot open my eyes. Tears are falling on my face. Someone's pushing a cloth to my body. Tears that I have no control of anymore, begin to descend down my face. Slowly I'm losing my feeling too. I try to say goodbye. That maybe this wasn't the right decision. But its too late. I can no longer speak. I try to mouth the words I'm sorry. Hands encircle me and begin to life me. By now numbness has taken over my body, and finally I enter into an eternal darkness…