A girl falls, brakes her leg, and can never walk again. Does anybody care other then her parents? No. One rumour about something that didn’t even happen gets spread and suddenly she’s labeled whore for the rest of her school years. No matter how much of a goodie two shoes she is, the name will stick to her.
For years to come shell sit alone in a dark corner looking back at the bleak rumour that started it all. Blood runs down as she takes a few more pills. She can’t take this anymore. She doesn’t want to. She wish’s it would all just go away. Why did he do this to her? Why the fuck did he have to be such a asshole?
All it took was one little lie to completely destroy her. She’d been reduced to a cutting in a dark corner all alone. She’d never find a decent job. A decent man. Get married. Have kids. Her dreams came crashing down to her ankles in a matter of hours.
How quickly lies spread. Even wildfires don’t have the destructive power a lie does. A wildfire can’t be controlled and put out in a day. A lie could take a lifetime to go away and the pain it leaves behind can’t even be imagined by anyone other then who it’s happened to.
Her trust is ruined and she speaks to no one. She’ll never open up to anyone again. One little lie has made her paranoid. Paranoid doesn’t even begin to describe how she feels inside. She trusted him and he took her words and twisted them into a web of lies that he spread around quicker then she had time to realize what had happened, or how it had happened.
She felt lost. She had no one anymore. All her friends avoided her like the Black Plague. She had nowhere to turn. No one left to talk to. She started to bottle it up. The pressure started building. She didn’t know what to do anymore. People weren’t made to bear that much pressure. We’re social creatures. We use others to relieve the pressure. But she had no one. The pressure was building. She didn’t even feel human anymore. She needed something. A way to relieve this pressure.
It was her first time. She had gotten the knife from her ex last Christmas. He had given it to her incase of emergencies, she had no idea at the time that this was what it’s true purpose was. The cold steel glided across her wrist and imminently left a blood trail getting thicker by the minute. It started to trickle down her wrists in little streams. She hadn’t expected so much blood. It dripped onto her bed.
She loved it. The pain made her feel human. As if she was actually normal. For the first time in a long time she felt happy. But the moment wasn’t to last. Soon she would be back to the real world. Alone again.
The next day her parents noticed the cuts but didn’t say anything. They were the most disappoint in her out of everybody. Even they had heard the rumours and thought of their child as a fucking slut. They couldn’t wait to get rid of her. They wanted her to die. Her goldfish supported her more then them. She went to school and walked though her normal day all alone. No one talked to her, other then to call her a slut or skank or whatever disgraceful name they could come up with next. Even her teachers tried to avoid her. She was so alone. So much pressure. Built up. She’d do it again tonight only worse this time. And again tomorrow, each time deeper then the last.
She’d keep going deeper two until the end. Until one night she downed a dozen pill bottles and cut her wrists repeatedly. she blacked out. Faded away into the blackness. For the first time in years she actually thought she was gonna get to drift off into the darkness and let the pain trickle away like the blood down her wrists.
Beep….. Beep….. Beep……
What the fuck was that noise? She didn’t know. She didn’t understand. What was happening? Had she been saved? No. She didn’t want to be. This was not was supposed to happen.
She slowly opened her eyes. Her sight was blurry at first but it soon came into focus. She was in a white room. She was lieing on a hospital bed. It was surrounded by her friends and family.
A week ago she had been in a car accident that put her into a coma. Had she really dreamt the years of pain in just a week? She must have.
After she left the hospital, shed never be the same again. She knew how it felt to be the girl no one liked. She knew the pain. So now she could use this, to help others.
2 comments
interesting…
So her whole terrible life was really just a coma, and the way out of the coma she didn’t know she was in, was suicide?
I’ve had that thought, myself, so many times… “what if this is all just a coma-dream since my wreck? What if the only way to wake from the coma is to end what seems like my real life?”
Is this a trope from somewhere, or just a recurring abstract interpretation meme for people who are long-term depressed?
What if “all this” and all these “people” telling me not to kill myself, are really just parts of my own consciousness trying to stop me from waking up from a coma i don’t realize i’m trapped in? What if this “life” i think is so terrible… is actually much better than the reality i can’t currently perceive, that exists outside of this coma-reality that i don’t realize isn’t “real?”
Idk. It feels pretty real to me.
Dude. I was just writing for something to do… I wasn’t even gonna put her into a coma.. i was just gonna have her commit suicide, but i decided to put a happy twist on the ending.. Or maybe your right and this is my inner self telling me that I’m actually in a coma 😮 either way, depression sucks :/