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I storm out of the house and slam the door a little too hard.
I shove my ipod headphones into my ears and turn up the screaming
I walk down the street in rage
How dare they?
I try to think about something else.
But I can’t run away.
I see my best friend; she tries to follow me and comfort me
But I shove her away.
Why listen to fake pity and understanding?
But what I don’t realize, is that it isn’t fake
What I do realize is that my “friend” was never there
It was my mind, trying to keep me from exploding.
But my mind isn’t my friend.
It can’t be.
I’m in the park now; my sanctuary
I stop and close my eyes
I look up at the pink sky and scream
“Where are you God? Why don’t you care?”
But I don’t scream
I only scream it in my head.
I think about the evening I’ve had.
Mom crying, dad not yelling
I must have really hurt them, because when dad doesn’t yell when I do this, it means he is in pain.
I’m screaming at my parents.
Telling them how I really feel.
All my feelings explode,
But my parents think I’m over exaggerating still
They don’t listen.
They never do.
They ask if I have taken my medicine lately.
That makes me furious.
Like if I take an anti-depressant then I will never have any feelings.
I will never be mad
All the anger before was the chemical imbalance in my head.
Why was I cursed with these creatures?
They are barely human.
I come back to the present, and look around.
I’ m by the creek.
It is about 20 feet up.
I want to end my pain, here and now
If I go home, then they will have won.
Or they would think they had.
But why give them the satisfaction of thinking they had won?
Why not win, now
You may think I’m being overdramatic, rash,
But I realize
My pain will never go away
Things will get worse
I will never be loved by the people I want to love me the most.
I come out of my mind, and realize that I’m on the edge of the brook
I want to do it.
I have to do it.
I step away.
I am amazed at myself.
Why did I do that?
I realize that the reason is...
Well, to explain it, let’s go back to when I was 9.
Im at my sisters cheerleading showoff.
The oldest team is all crying.
Their teammate killed herself.
I wasn’t that sad, because even then, I understood her pain.
As we walked out I asked my mother,
“How did she go to heaven if she didn’t get time to ask God to forgive her?”
That is the question Im asking myself now.
I don’t want to go to hell.
But I don’t know what is next.
I know, but what if God sends me to hell for killing myself?
That is permanent.
I comprehend that life on Earth is just a taste of hell.
With a little bit of God mixed in.
And if now is so bad that I want to give in to the devil,
What will the devil’s home be like?
So, with tears in my eyes, I step back on the sidewalk.
I’m not angry anymore.
I never was.
My anger was a disguise for my pain.
I am sad.
I am sad that I know my parents love me, but I never feel like they do.
I am sad that I am never listened to.
I am sad that I know things will only get worse
I am sad for almost giving up, letting my pain die.
I’m in the real world again.
The world of pain and suffering and death.
People are staring at me and my tearstained face
But I don’t care.
I walk home with my ipod off.
With a heavy heart.
I walk home; knowing tomorrow will be no better.
I am walking home.