I began writing this the day after I learnt my grandfather had passed so in some ways, this is...
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I’d never had any friends; I was basically a loner. No one liked to play with me, talk to me or even just hang out with me. I guess my snappy attitude and my disgust for the people around me didn’t help.
Every day was routine. I slugged through it with no purpose and meaning.
Another ordinary day; my alarm clock began beeping at a ridiculous hour in the morning. Groggily, I wedged one eye open and stared at the pitiful red numbers that gleamed at me.
Five thirty. Great. Another one of mum’s stupid pranks to get me out of bed on time.
In order to spite her, I slapped it to stop and rolled over in bed and when right back to sleep.
“Silver! Wake up!”
I groaned and sleepily eyed the clock. It was seven. I was going to be late, like every other day.
I dragged myself to the bathroom and showered before changing into ankle length black leggings, a black dress and a dark blue Hollister hoodie. I tied my black Converse and grabbed my bag before heading downstairs.
My mother was washing the dishes when I walked into the kitchen to grab my lunch. She gave me a narrow eyed I’m-getting-tired-of-this-nonsense look but didn’t say anything. I took an apple and left, slamming the front door behind me.
It was a half an hour walk to school. I loved walking; it was a refreshing journey. It was also great because it meant that I was ten minutes late for school.
“Ms Mysis,” Mrs. Tyson, the schools’ administrator, reprimanded me when I walked into reception to sign in. “You have been late every day for the last month and a half. This is unacceptable.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes.
She sighed. It was the same routine every morning.
I dragged my feet to first period. And similarly, I dragged my feet through the whole day.
Someone had sprayed whipped cream into my locker again so I spent most of third period wiping it out. I got tripped over in P.E. and spent the rest of fifth in sick bay holding an ice pack to my ankle.
At the end of sixth period I returned to sick bay to give back my ice pack, insisting that I was fine to walk home.
Muttering to myself about the nonsense of school I walked home, kicking a pebble along the pavement.
As I rounded the corner, I saw an ambulance parked outside my house. Even though I didn’t really like my mother, I couldn’t help the worry that rose into my throat as I saw police and ambulance officers surrounding our home.
“What’s happening?” I asked worriedly as I ran to the nearest officer.
The man looked at me.
“What your name?”
“Sylvia Mysis but everyone calls me Silver. And what’s going on?”
“Olivia Henderson has been found dead in her bedroom.”
I shrugged. Olivia had always been a little psycho. She hated her life more than I did mine.
“Silver!” called my mum.
I saw her running to me from next door. Now that I knew she was safe, the worry that was filling me had disappeared. I shrugged my shoulders and pushed past her as I headed for the house.
“Silver! Don’t you dare turn your back on me!”
I ignored her, slamming the front door behind me.
I think I deserved to turn my back on her, especially after she shut me out the way she did; making me live off takeaway and scraps because she was whining that Dad had left.
It had been a month and a half and our relationship still wasn’t improving and there wasn’t much I planned on doing about it.
I stood in my room, wondering what to do; repaint my nails black- they were beginning to chip- or read and listen to my iPod.
I rotated slowly around my pigsty of a room. As I turned, I happened to glance out the window. Through the drapes I could see the silhouettes of people photographing what I guessed was Olivia. She was hanging from the ceiling.
Lucky her. She’d escaped this horrible life by killing herself.
I froze. What a brilliant idea!
Killing myself- it could be the solution to everything.