You know what would be wonderful? If I got Cancer and died. See I would reject Chemotherapy and then I’d die sooner or latter. Then everyone would talk about me after I died like I was such a wonderful person.
“She fought so hard”
“There was always a smile on her face”
“She could always make me laugh!”
Maybe my dad would finally show his face at my funeral…first time in almost 10 years…Or maybe my mom wouldn’t even tell him about it…My teachers would probably come. I was a very loved student. I hardly ever did my homework and I was failing most of my classes but they’d come…I’m sure of it. My reading teacher would probably read some of my writing at the service. I loved to write. I was accepted in to magazines. They would probably find my profiles on Writer’s Cafe…they’d read the things I was so afraid for other’s to read. They’d find out I had a different side….one I never wanted anyone to know about…
My friends and family would speak so kindly about me. Hannah would say I helped her so much when he boyfriend moved to California…Madi would say I was always there when she needed to talk…Oliva would say that we always had a good laugh together and could relate so much…Katie…well she’d say we were inseparable since 6th grade year when we found out we were the exact same….Jenni….she probably wouldn’t come…not because she hated me but because there had been too much death around her..Brice….He probably wouldn’t come either….2,000 miles is a long ways to drive for a lover’s funeral….My whole school would probably come…not because I was well known or loved..but just out of respect…when my friend died last year of Cancer over half of out school went…everyone loved Spencer…
They’d play some of my favorite songs…most would be disturbed by my taste in music though…
Weeks later my mom would probably clean out my room and find my box…..They’d find the key that I taped under my bed…..They would open the box and find suicide note after suicide note. Then, after reading through all of them, they’d discover at the bottom, underneath a flap, they would find my blades….then the one covered in the most blood…then they would know…..I wouldn’t be their “little girl” anymore….I’d be someone they never knew….a stranger.