For Those Who Want to Leave

For those who want to leave this world, for those contemplating suicide but are to hesitant to go through with it, theres a reason for that. Something is holding you back. I think when you love something or love someone, that is the reason for you to stay. I thought long about this as I sat in the shower remembering the period of time when I felt very suicidal. I imagined in it in my head, my suicide.

I take the handful of pills I had prepared nights before from the cabinet. Tonight is the night. I write a letter to each family member in my household and I do it moments before my leaving because that gives each letter more meaning. I write one to my brother whom I have grown up with and developed the best brotherly bond there can ever be. I write one for each of my two younger brothers but ask that they be saved until they are old enough to understand the contents and meaning of the letter. I write one for my mother and make this one the longest because she and I have the strongest mother and son bond. I am her first born, of course the bond is strong. I make it known that she is not to blame for my departure as it was my own fault for not having the stomach to reach out. I write one for my stepfather telling him to stay strong for the family as I know he has always been. He and I have had a good relationship for him being a stepfather and I know he will not take my absence easily. I also write one for my best friend. This letter too is a long one explaining everything I have had running through my mind, apologies, feelings, especially the secrets I have long kept. Finally, all the letters are neatly stacked and properly and specifically addressed. Tears run down my face. It makes me so sad that all this is about to happen and my parents are upstairs sleeping, unaware of whats going on. Of course they don’t, its three in the morning. I want to die on the couch downstairs because I don’t want my brother to wake up near my lifeless body. As I sit on the cold leather couch, I stare out the backdoor into the moonlit plants. But in my head it’s just a background decoration because all I can really see is my family. I hold in my hand way too many pills for the human body to handle. I can’t stop thinking about my mother, my little brothers, and her. I remember her telling me she is proud of me for staying strong. I try very hard to think about the good things I still have as if that would be enough to change my mind. But sadly, the depressed mind is set.  The choice has been made, letters have been written, and tears have been shed. I impulsively force down the handful of pills with heavy tears. After washing them down with a bottle of water, I lean back against the couch, stare out the back door and slowly… start… to fade… I’m dead now. My mom goes downstairs to make us breakfast but she stops. She sees my body laying back on the couch with my eyes open facing the back door. “R___?” She says with a cracked voice. She runs to me and shakes my body hoping I wake up and that I am only joking. She begins to cry and scream hysterically. She starts calling for help. I am her oldest. Her first kid. How could I have done this to her. My two younger brothers come down curious about what’s wrong with my mom. They understand death. They see my mom crying and hugging my lifeless body; however, my mom doesn’t even notice them. They both begin to cry. They are hurt deeply as I was the big brother they looked up to and the one they did everything after. My brother comes down knowing something is up. He sees us. He can’t breathe, he doesn’t know what to think. He doesn’t want to believe it. I was the one he goes to school and brags about. He loves telling all his friends about how tough and how cool his big brother is. We’ve always been side-by-side growing up. He doesn’t know what to do without me. He joins in the crying and the hugging as my mom is hanging up the phone after calling for an ambulance. He goes to hug my mom, he needs someone. My stepfather wakes up to the noise and realizes that the whole time the crying was for me. My death. He doesn’t want to believe it either. He cries quietly and hugs my three brothers and my mom. He wants to be alone though; I know he grieves best when it’s just him quietly by himself. But he has to be here. My family needs him there too. The ambulance is here now, and they put me in the body bag. I’m on my way to the hospital while my family follows. What have I done to them? I hurt them. I’m so selfish! I have a family that I love so much, and I left them to hurt. I remember them saying something. “What will we do without you? When you go off to college. Then who is going to be the funny one in the family. This house is going to be quiet without you.”

I’m sorry