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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…..

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13 comments

that.road 8/8/2013 - 11:00 pm

That is the sad truth about suicide… Not only is the act of suicide tragic, but the tragedy continues for the people left behind. Almost always, there are people left behind.

fanguyisonfire 8/8/2013 - 11:05 pm

That’s exactly the point. It’s so saddening

clevername 8/8/2013 - 11:18 pm

Well, you know what? All that sadness serves them right for ignoring the needs of the person who required help and changes (innocent younger brother character notwithstanding).

They certainly helped create that dreadful situation.

If you wait until someone is dead, to admit that you should have done something differently… then it doesn’t matter, because it’s too late.

There is a thing called “too late,” and more people need to appreciate just exactly what that really means… and then strive to prevent anything from ever getting that far.

But i don’t think much will change.

I dare the world to prove me wrong. But i wouldn’t hold my breath.

distant.road 8/8/2013 - 11:27 pm

Fair enough, clevername… Sometimes the family does ignore. On some other occasions, family and friends are pushed away. I think that it works both ways.

PainNlife 8/8/2013 - 11:30 pm

Yes….this is the truth about death….not only suicide but death period. If the girl had died from an accident or murder the same outcome would be the result. I’ve come to this conclusion from hours and hours of contemplation on suicide. I know suicide affects everyone but death itself affects everyone. Suicide is just the catalyst that brings death. I know people say its selfish but by definition selfish is defined as “being concerned excessively or exclusively with oneself : seeking or concentrating on one’s own advantage, pleasure, or well-being without regard for others.” Does it really fit this description? Is suicide really an advantage? Does it bring any benefit or pleasure to the person? No…It is a last resort …the final option… It is not a self centered decision. One does not commit suicide for the benefit or gain of ones self. It is a way out of a painful and undesirable existence. Death will always leave someone behind… that is how life works.

iamsara198 8/8/2013 - 11:44 pm

I have to say in some cases people know that people they love are siting in their house all day and have no friends and must be depressed and very lonely but they let them keep siting there day after day doing nothing like dragging that person out to do something fun with them…going out to moves, for walks or whatever , they just keep doing what they want in their own life and just check on the lonely person once in a while and maybe say i love you. Then they are all upset and crying when the depressed person cant take it anymore and kills themself. Why didnt they take the time out to try and help the depressed person when they were alive? because then its too late. Like when my little girl was getting bullied in school i didnt wait around hoping the school might do something about it.. i went up to her school and let them know if they didnt stop the bullying immediately i would. And it never happened again.

RealTalk30 8/8/2013 - 11:50 pm

Toss those poster baby girl, the real world is tailored to make up believe it means anything when it actually means nothing at all. All those “pretty people” who worship “pretty people” are dead inside. Beauty is the integrity, strength and creativity we posses and express when the world continues to stroke itself off!

Persephone 8/8/2013 - 11:52 pm

Yeah, it makes me wonder why people continued to verbally abuse and mentally torture me even when they knew full well of my suicide attempt. The person who partly caused me to crack actually continued to belittle me while I was in the hospital, and for months afterwards, even as I said I still wanted to die. People don’t fucking get it. Did they actually WANT me to kill myself?

iamsara198 8/8/2013 - 11:54 pm

But there are also some cases that no mater what anyone tries to do they cant help the person. Maybe the person suffers from a really bad physical pain or cancer. If someone i loved was suffering really bad from those things i could understand why they may end their life. And i would be very sad but i would understand. I would just follow them.

PainNlife 8/8/2013 - 11:59 pm

People kick a lion while its down and when it dies they are “shocked and confused” as if the kicking had nothing to do with it and even those that didn’t kick but just watched are just as guilty as the kickers because they did nothing.

iamsara198 8/9/2013 - 12:05 am

Perserphone..im so sorry your stuck around people like that =(

distant.road 8/9/2013 - 12:07 am

Persephone, that’s pretty terrible. Sadly, there are some elements of society that think nothing of being cruel and malicious. Maybe it’s an ego boost or some sick psychological tactic… Whatever the reason, it’s awful. I’m glad you’re here.

AndInTheEnd 8/9/2013 - 3:49 pm

I have read other versions of this story before and would love to pretend that people care that much about me. Also, if anyone can recommend someone to straw purchase guns in California, I’d be quite grateful.

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