I hope he knew that inside I was dying slowly. I hope he knew that the words he'd said that one day, hurt my feelings, hurt me. He probably didnt even know my name, yet he talked of me as though he did. I was so sick and tired of all the criticism and nasty looks that my fellow high school student shot me. I looked at my paper all sprawled out amongst others on my desk. I looked at my wrist, the way my veins seemed to pop out against my milky pale skin. It was one of the many things that i hated about myself.
Looking out my bedroom window, I could see all of my neighbors chatting happily among themselves in front of my yard. I looked at my bed, realizing what lay on it and what is about to happen. A part of me deep down knew that he didnt mean what he said, that he was just emotionally unprepared. I picked up the rope and loped it around my hand, feeling the roughness of the object rub into my hands painfully. I rubbed harder, knowing that it would leave red marks in its place. I opened my window and wrapped the end of the rope to the solid banister that sat there.
As I made the knot, I saw him. He was walking towards my house, his strides very determined. I quickly tied the rope, careful to get it right. I stepped out onto my roof, at walked towards the end, all the while, putting the rope around my neck. All I could think was, God O'Father, Im making my way to you now. A second before I stepped of the roof, I looked at him
My eyes, drifted shut, my music was the frantic voices of people calling my name and screaming. But it was muted in a weird way, like the way a mother would sing a lullaby. I fell into a forever slumber and the last thing I heard was Him calling my name, in a voice full of emotion.