The Final Step

November 9, 2011
By missdupri BRONZE, Exeter, New Hampshire
missdupri BRONZE, Exeter, New Hampshire
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

It's December 29th , 2007. I am standing atop the Bloukrons Bridge in San Jose, Costa Rica. I am 708 feet above the calm ocean, where I go everyday to find my peace. My name is Breezy and this is my last journal entry anybody will ever read.

I come to stand on this bridge everyday at sunrise and sunset. I come here thinking of nothing but the beauty of the ocean. I like to think positive and this is the only positive thing I know. There are some days I come here though and my past seeps into my brain the way ooblek seep through your fingers. Those are the worst days. But today is by far the worst. Today is the day I will go so far into my thoughts, I will think it's actually happening again. Today is the day I will let the whole world know what brought me to this point.

March 13th , 2000. A broken arm, nose and a black eye. But these are the injuries I've had for weeks. Its 2:13 Am, I was asleep in our two bedroom apartment. My mother and her boyfriend were still out when I fell asleep. But there drunken footsteps, doors slamming and slurred words are what wake me quickly out of my deep sleep. I quietly check the drawer in my nightstand. Auntie had given me a gun before she passed. She said she knew what it was like. It was only to use just in case though, maybe to scare him away if I needed to. But I knew I wouldn't. I was the only one that would ever be scared. I close the drawer, burying myself into my blankets, praying the the higher powers that the boogey man would come take me away.

I hear a door close. Yes! They went to sleep. I let the blankets around me loosen. But then I hear footsteps coming towards my door. He's awake. He walks over to my mattress that sits on the floor, kneeling down he whispers in my ear. “I missed you.” He smells of liquor and chinese food. Some smells you can never forget, these are smells that are in the moments that are lodged into your brain for life. He runs his fingers through through my long sand-colored hair. He begins taking to into the monstrous part of the world. The world full of perverts, murderers, rapists and so on. He has me here for so long it becomes all I know. All in one quick movement, without a thought or doubt going through my mind, I reach over, open the drawer, grab the gun and put it to his head. While he uses his last moments to look into my deep green eyes trying to find the real me, the scared me, the 11 year old me, I pull the trigger. I run into my mother's room, give her a kiss on the cheek and pray for her to find the good in this world. Then I do what I have been waiting to do for years. I walk away. I don't run and never will I run again.

And that is what brought me to this point. This is why I am writing to you for the last time, seven year later. There was obviously more that had happened to get me here. But if I told you everything, I would be telling you the same story over and over again. The past seven years I have thought long and hard for what I am about to do. I walked myself through each and every moment of my life and why I need to do this. I see no good left in this world. All I see are the monsters. And I am one of them.

I take my final step off this ugly, tormented earth and into the waves. My heaven.

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