Well I have tried killing myself. I’ve slit my wrists, arms, legs, stomach, fingertips. I don’t want an identity. I have burned off my fingerprints but they grew back, no matter how many times I burned them off.
I don’t consider myself human.
I’m an alien.
I’m a redhead that lives in a small town full of Mexicans. I don’t hate them, I love my friends. But I’m an alien. I’m from mars and other people like me (gingers) are the reason why mars is red. I had to learn to make fun of myself at a very young age in order to live in this hellhole-of-a-town.
I’ve held a gun up to my head. But anyone can do that, it’s easy.
But I’ve done something you never have. I pulled the trigger.
I know you’re thinking “Wtf, how is she alive.” But I’m not, I’m dead inside. I am physically alive though. The bullet jammed in the barrel of the gun right after I pulled the trigger. Strange right? How often does that happen. And it scared me, it took at least an hour for me to realize I’m not dead and what even happened. Right after the ringing in my ears stopped I cried, I curled up in a ball on my bed a cried myself to sleep. After waking up I grabbed the gun a put it back in the drawer where my mom kept it. I had to make sure she didn’t know what happened. I had a cut on the right side of my skull, at my temple, right where I held the gun.
The next few weeks all I could think about was why didn’t I die and if my life was worth ending. Well I knew my mother didn’t love me a couldn’t care less about me. Well she could because she’ll be missing another tax deduction. But you get my point.
My dad. My dad hated seeing me in pain. And I hated seeing the pain in his eyes. He didn’t want to accept the fact that his only daughter, his only child, cuts herself. He’s seen the razor blades before, he’s seen the scars, but he’s never touched my wrist, especially not after I cut myself. But one day I had been talking to my step mom about break ups, then my father, who was standing next to me, saw my hand and saw the heart I carved in it. He touched the newly carved cuts, he asked me why I did that and I answered “Because I felt like it.” and I had, but the pain I could see in his eyes made me want to die. my father never had a good life. Abuse, drug addict mother, homeless for half his life. All I ever wanted was to make it rich and give my dad the life he wanted.
My step mom always told me to write and paint. I love it. I couldn’t imagine my life without art, music, and writing. I’m currently working on a novel, 162 pages so far. It’s a horror story. And in it I get to kill all the people I’m not allowed to in real life. “There are only two types of killers: Psychopaths and mystery writers.” I am both kinds of people. I’ve always wanted to be one. And if anything ever happens to anyone I’m close to I swear I will become a serial killer and I’ll start by killing whoever hurt them. But I’ll have to be secretive. That should be easy since I’ve lived my entire life (17 years) invisible. So if you ever see some infamous serial killer that kills bad people that would be me.
I didn’t like my step dad and I don’t think he liked me. It doesn’t matter anyways since he left my family for a motorcycle gang, Devils Diciples. For almost a year he had caused so much anger and frustration in my household!! I hated him for it. I wanted to punch him and continue until he was dead. How dare he do that to my mother!! What did he do? He choked her ‘attacking him’ when she was just trying to talk to him. I grew tired of waking up at 3 am to glass bottles being broken and thrown at each other. I didn’t care about the fighting, I worried for my younger brother (11 yrs old). I was used to the fighting, they were always like this. But the thing I hated was that they fought in front of us. I’ve almost called the cops on them multiple times, thinking back, I should have called.
My brother doesn’t understand everything he see’s. But I know he has more pain than people would like to realize. I know the divorce of his parents is going to kill him. Though sometimes I want to strangle him because he’s being so stupid I couldn’t imagine my life without him. It would be boring and lonely since my mother doesn’t like to come home.
My step brother. I hate that bastard. I hope he dies slowly. Seems like getting hit by a car twice and getting in a car accident isn’t enough. For some reason he just won’t die. He would torment me when we were kids. he would hit me for no reason, but that’s when I got strong. I’ve always been the strongest of all the girls I’ve known. And I love that, I’ve always been stronger and I love putting a guy in his place by beating him at any physical challenge. But ever since that day, that horrible day in June, I wanted to kill him. I would wake up in the middle of the night with my step brother trying to quietly pull my blanket off of me without waking me up. That’s when I learned to be a light sleeper. One night he succeeded. I hate myself for that night. After that I began sleeping in my parents room. But I never told them, I tried but they didn’t believe me. And whenever they left us alone I just stayed outside with my dogs, no matter how cold it was. I figured if someone drove by they would see and stop him so I just stayed outside until I saw the headlights of my parents car roll up.
I began cutting myself again. I knew my parents would get mad at me for having my razor blades again so I carried paper, I mean could they really get you in trouble for having paper cuts. But that soon ended because there’s nothing gratifying in that except  pain in your legs as you try to walk. I began drinking again and I finally tried weed, I liked it. I wish I could smoke it whenever I wanted and just listen to music, I just want to escape.
My girlfriend. Well ex girlfriend I should say. I cared for her, and I still do.  We did everything together. We had to fight for our love, her mother loved me until she realized we were more than just friends. She thought I was some evil thing that was brainwashing her daughter. My mother hated her because she thought she was brainwashing me. Really? What’s with the theme of brainwashing?! I never understood what was so bad. Just because we are two girls? We fought periodically but every couple does. We lasted for one year and three months. After she broke up with me everyone started telling me how much they hated her. I’ve defended her so many times. That’s why I stuck around so long, to protect her. Everything I did was to keep her happy. But she doesn’t need me, and I don’t need her. I wanted to kill myself after being so stupid and wasting so much time.
I don’t know. I guess there’s my story, it isn’t close to being finished but yea. I know it’s wordy but I’m a writer, can you tell?
6 comments
Speechless. Don’t die please. Become a writer, people need to hear your story/ies!!! And Please win her back :DD
AN ARTIST
You weren’t verbose at all.
Are you allowed to say which motorcycle gang your step dad joined? I’m just curious.
Wanting to kill people that have wronged you doesn’t make you a serial killer type, more of a crusader. You will be “a person of interest” during the investigation, though. (Should you decide to go that route).
It is also very brave of you to pursue a same sex relationship at such a young age.
You have time. Time to get out of your little town and start living a life that makes you feel fulfilled. Your current situation is temporary, and I suspect your dismal upbringing will someday be nothing more than a painful memory to a future, successful version of yourself as an adult.
Best wishes.
To cold_blooded_freak:
A bit about me: I’m 48 and I’m also gay. My “girlfriend/lover/best friend” just dumped me last month, which is the reason I found this site. I’ve never been more depressed. I also suffer from severe back and neck pain due to degenerative disc disease (I have been on morphine consistently for seven years). I don’t have any real family left (parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, all died years ago). I have probably been suicidal all my life, BUT… I do want to see what tomorrow holds. I have to take it one day at a time.
A bit about you(?): You are seventeen, you have parents (seems like your Mom is pretty f*cked up – but people have been known to change ??), you are obviously very talented (writing, painting), you love your brother, dad, ex-gfriend, your dogs, etc.
PLEASE… I know what I’m going to say might not seem like much right now, because you have clearly suffered a lot in your 17 years… BUT, (here goes) things do change. Life, when you get older (and I DO HOPE YOU GET OLDER!!) will not be at all like it is now in high school. I hated everyone and everything when I was going to school. Kids can be incredibly mean and viscous, and every day seemed like hell to me.
But trust me, once you finish school and become independent, you get get away from the people that are hurting you. Your love life is probably always going to have its ups and downs, especially for people like us. But you have to imagine a better life. You have to concentrate and fantasize in detail about how you want your life to go. That’s what I’m doing right now, because I know if I dwell on all of the negative things in life, all of that negative energy just starts picking up momentum, and it seems no matter where I turn, more crappy sh*t happens. It’s like all of the bad karma just starts multiplying and doesn’t stop. And although I have to admit, thinking about revenge against all the people that have hurt you feels darn satisfying, but all that is really doing is attracting more negative energy your way.
The hard thing to do right now is to try and turn all of those negative thoughts and ideas into more positive ones, and take it day by day.
Don’t you want to be there for your little brother and see him grow up? He’s going to need you to lean on and to love him, don’t you think? Wouldn’t killing yourself ruin him? There’s a reason why your mom’s gun didn’t go off, don’t you think?
I just have to see people wanting to end it all at such a young age. I understand people that are old and in pain (like myself 🙂 ), but it really hurts me when I know that there is so much more for you to experience in this world (more good/positive things!), and at seventeen years old, well, It’s like walking out of a movie in the first ten minutes because it doesn’t appear to have a good plot yet (You could fix that – you appear to be a talented writer!). Your next girlfriend, or next love-of-your-life, could be just around the corner.
For me, it’s always in the back of my mind, that suicide IS an option. BUT… I kinda want to see a bit more of this movie that I’m staring in, to see what is going to come my way next. Hopefully, it will be something good. I can always “walk out” – if I have to – later on.
My best friend has red hair, and she’s beautiful. You may feel like you stick out where you live, and maybe you do. But it’s not always a bad thing. If you feel like people are looking at you, maybe they are looking because they are jealous! They are the ones that look like everyone else around them – you’ve got something special.
PLEASE HANG ON. I hope something I said made some sense. I just feel like there is so much more (good things!) for you out there. I was lucky growing up gay – I lived in a fairly large college town, and I was never discriminated for being gay. Do you live in a small town? Is there someplace different where you would want to move?
Wanna know something crazy.? i dont know you but you already matter to me your a beautiful person, dont kill yourself kill the image you think you are belive it or not others love you.
My brother is the thing that’s help me live this long. A month ago I was so suicidal that as soon as my friend left my house I was sure I was going to kill myself, I already planned it. But the one thing that stopped me was the rememberance of one of my friends saying “what would your brother do if he came home to see your dead body on the floor?”
I never cared about living. I never made plans about living.
But I always thought of dying. Ever since I was little I always planned out my death and how my funeral was going to be. What songs would play and I always doubted that many people would show up so I never expected anyone would cry over me.
I don’t dream. I just don’t. I used to have nothing but nightmares and then suddenly I didn’t dream at all. I just see black. And sometimes I wake up while I’m asleep but I can’t move my body. So I just sit there and hope to go back to sleep. But now, I just get these visions of gettin hit by a car as I walk home or getting kidnapped and escaping. I don’t know what those dreams/visions mean, just that my life is fucked up.