Suicide

January 7, 2008
By
I can’t take it anymore. Nobody likes me, I’m an outcast.
I’m going to do it today after school, before my mom comes home.
I’ve been saving pain killers in a small pouch.
Before I can do it, I decide to write letters to my mom, my dad, my little sister, and my little brother.
The time has come. My time has come. I fill the biggest glass in the house of water, and swallow twenty-five of the pain killers.
At first nothing happened, I didn’t feel any different.
An hour flies by then another.
It’s then when I start to feel funny, like my whole body is turning to mush. My vision starts to blur. My breath starts to shorten, and my mind grows fuzzy. I start to wish that I had never done it.
I realize that all of my problems could be fixed.
I hear the front door open, and my mom comes into the room.
When she first saw me on the floor, she screamed.
She ran to my side and cradled me like a baby in her warm arms.
Then she picked up the phone and called an ambulance.
My mind goes black and I can’t hear, see, or feel anything.
I finally woke up in a hospital bed with an oxygen tube helping me breathe. The doctors say that my mom saved my life.





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