Imagine

Imagine this:
You come home from another shit day at school. The bullying, the classes you’re failing, the loneliness. You’re sick of everything. You walk into the lounge room and slump onto your couch. Your little brother sits happily next to you, smiling at the cartoons on the TV. He turns around and asks how your day at school went. You say everything was ‘fine’. Blatant lie. He says that’s good and goes back to watching cartoons. You lean over to his cheek and give him a kiss. He turns to you again and says “What was that for?” You smile and say I love you. You grab your school bag and walk upstairs; still keeping an eye on your brother who smiles as you walk up the stairs. You go into the bathroom and stare in the mirror. You bend down and wash your face. You can’t wash the ugly away. You grab a towel with your stumpy hands and dry your face. You leave the bathroom and walk into your bedroom. The posters of perfect people like Jennifer Lawrence, Beyonce, Megan Fox and Miley Cyrus stare back at you; Their perfect bodies, perfect smile, perfect life. You throw your bag against the wall and lay on your bed; Ugly, stupid, slut, *****, whore. It was all too much. You lean over to your draw and pull out the blade you used to cut yourself the night before. Only this time it was your last. You start screaming and ripping the posters of your wall and crying. You hear a knock on your door. It’s your brother. He asks if you’re ok. You wipe the tears of your face and you say yes. Another blatant lie. He says he loves you and walks off; his footsteps fade down the stairs. You find the blade you flung off the bed. You pick it up and slouch on your bed; your torn posters surround you. You lower the blade to your wrist and run it across. The pain is unbearable. Like a boiling hot glove run across your wrist. Your blood seeps off your wrist and onto your bed; the sheets turn darker than the night sky. All the memories of your family come back to you. The day you had water fights with your brother and mum. The day you went into the city and your brother bought you the nicest shirt. They are your everything. Then you remember the days at school that you dreaded. How you walked into class and everyone would move at a 5 metre radius from where you sat. How you got called the worst names in PE. Slob, slut, skank. You pretend to not care about it even though it was killing you inside. You decide it was too much. You rotate the blade and run it up your wrist. Everything stops for a minute and then you fall to the ground. The blood goes everywhere as your dead body lays still. Your mum comes home and kisses your brother on the cheek. She walks upstairs and knocks on your door. She waits for a couple of moments and opens the door. She looks at your dead body; screaming. Your brother walks up the stairs and sees what your mum is screaming at. He doesn’t know what’s going on. Only that the sister that he loved so very much had left him. He runs into his room and sobs into his pillow for hours upon hours. A week later, it’s your funeral. Everyone mourns on your loss. Your family. Even the girls that caused most of this came to mourn; calling you an inspiration and all that other bullshit. Your brother sits next to your casket and says he misses you and that he loves you. He kisses the casket and walks away as the coffin is slowly lowered into the ground. At school, they hold a memorial in your honour. You become the talk of the school. Bullying expos and presentation followed the month after your death. People start to feel for your sorrow and sadness. The girls that bitched about you saying that ‘they regret everything’. The teachers that put so much stress on you saying ‘I should’ve been more careful’. You mother, crying day after day saying ‘I should’ve kept my girl closer’. 3 years later, your mum and brother have moved from their old house to lose the memories. Your mum lost her job and your brother has moved onto middle school. He gets bullied too. Your mum has fallen into depression and just sits at home, staring continually at photos of you. Your brother sits on borderline suicidal but would never leave your mother. Your family, torn apart. Suicide doesn’t just affect you. It affects everyone around you…..