Lying On My Bed This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

By
     There I was, lying on my bed. It was 3 a.m. and I still didn’t really know what I was doing. But it was too late anyway. Everyone in the house was asleep so they wouldn’t find me until morning.

I waited for everything to happen. A couple of pills, some vodka. I might have had some speed, too, I’m not sure. I looked at my wrist and noticed that it was still bleeding. I waited and watched the syrupy stream crawl down my arm. I had never realized how red my blood was until that moment. It was a deep, shadowy crimson; thick and heavy as it traveled.

I turned my mind to the rest of my body. It felt cold and numb. My stomach hurt a little but there wasn’t very much pain. As I lay there with little feeling, I thought of how everyone would react. Maybe they would cry in the beginning, but I was sure they all really wanted it to happen. Maybe no one would even cry, maybe they wouldn’t even know what I had done.

Then, out of nowhere, I felt my eyes start to bleed. Only they weren’t the same drops that were coming from my wrist. They were hot and steamy as they journeyed down my cheek. When they met my lips I tried to wipe them away, only to find more beginning to pour from my eyes. Why was this happening? I had been so sure an hour ago. What I had done I could not undo. I couldn’t give the alcohol back to that girl who got it for me, I couldn’t give that guy back the speed. I couldn’t even un-steal the pills from the pharmacy.

And then it was clear what I had done. I had bought something I couldn’t return. Stained something that couldn’t be washed. Broken something that couldn’t be fixed. And I would have to pay for what I had done.

I ended up having to go to a psychologist for 18 months. My parents would not leave me home alone or let me go out for almost two years. My friends all deserted me because they thought I was crazy. Even some of my family left me for a while because they thought I was unstable.

But it was worth it, calling 911 and getting my life back, getting a second chance. I have left therapy and my parents can let me go out and know that I’m safe. Some of my old friends have come back to me and I have made new ones, too. All my family have returned to me. I sampled death and it was too hot for me to handle. It was too hot for my friends and family, too. If I had known what the consequences would be beforehand, I would have never done what I did.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






Join the Discussion

This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

SMWells said...
Nov. 14, 2010 at 7:53 pm
I realy apreciate this. Your lack of self pitty. And the fact that your expiereance led you to advise others for the better. That was realy good of you.
 
Sarah I. said...
Nov. 6, 2009 at 3:31 pm
That was so powerful! And so brave. Thank you for sharing that!
 
bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback