Dying Expectations

“thats just it…” i mumbled to myself in the middle of a discussion with her. Her the one who has driven past the point of no return, my own mother. Today she had decided to give me shit about how i dress, and her comment of choice was, “You look like you’re about ready to die.”
“what?” she just had to ask.
“That’s just it, so what if i look like this not like you’d care if i were dead, so why not dress like it so you wont even notice until i dont give you my ‘shitty attitude’?”
I had pissed her off… So my mother left to go out drinking and waste herself away once more. Her perfect song of choice would be that old one, it goes “wasted away in margaritaville..” you know… so i went about my night just as normal. I ended up calling my best friend, the secret love of my life, she always seemed to want to talk to me, unlike what i can say for the rest of the world.
“hello..?” she mumbled into the phone.
“hey, whats up?” i asked casually, but i could tell something was wrong.
“nothing, i was just sitting here hoping you’d call, you see i wanted to ask you something.”
“really… well ive called, so ask away.”
“well.. i dont really want to, i think it will upset you.”
“just… ask..” i said, already not liking the sound of this. Being alreayd upset for the past few days, depression had taken its toll, i knew id never have her… and just my home life wasnt too great as you could tell.
“i was wondering, if you considered us really good friends?”
“of course, you’re like my only friend.. you mean a lot to me.”
“thats what i was afraid of, you see, i know we’re friends and all, but lately you’ve been drifting away from me. i’m starting to blame your depression, and i dont want to have to be depressed like you, just to have you back. so i think im not going to talk to you until you regain yourself.”
“whats that mean? this is me, sorry for my feelings.”
she had left…
‘damn..’ i thought.
i really couldnt help this, depression thing, its been plauging me my whole life. The cause of my lack of friends.. but i thought she had really cared, maybe we even had something there. That crossed the line. It was the last piece of straw on the donkeys back…. i didnt know what else to do.
I had been a cutter for at least 3 years now. But it just didnt seem to fit the night, it seemed to me, that i had lost the one last thing that had meant anything to me at all.
More than any material object, any relationship besides this i would sacrifice. But now… i had nothing, and i was no one.
They say that without interaction with other people, a human would die. And this is what has become of me.
I led myself blindly to the medicine cabnit. I grabbed every bottle in the, and started shoving the pills down my throat.
‘Fuck water…’ i thought to myself, if i choke the deed will be done faster.
then, intoxicated on depression and about 700 pills of all my mothers ‘pain medication’ i led myself back to my room. i turned on some music, i didnt care what it was, and just let the screaming voice take my pain away.
I reached over for my blades… barely remember the spot i kept them. slashing viciously, yet gracefully, i filled up my arm in a matter of seconds, and the blood oozed down onto my white down comforter. The deep red entranced me, and i thought of how funny it would be to see my mothers face when she finds my comforter, too bad i wouldnt be there.
the room started to crumble, and it was the loudest noise i had ever heard. It captured and filled every space in my ears, and the room fell away and left me in the black void of space….
I felt like i was falling, but my eyes were too heavy to look where.
I hit the ground, hard, and found myself in the most beautiuflly depressing place i had ever seen. The sky was a deep gray, the ground was made of dark red grass that was enchanting, and the rest of the scenery was charcoal black. This was the place i wanted to stay.
I found a comfortable looking place in the grass and took advantage, falling asleep just about as soon as i hit the ground. I awoke, finding thyat i wasnt alone. there she was, and more beautiful than ever.
‘im sorry.’ she said in her sleep.
and i left her there, to rest. For to awake her, would be like killing her, bringing her to this place before her time. I would wait here, in this eden. For she would come.

By xsilentXscreamsx

i am a very boring person, trust me i would know im around myself all the time, but anyhoo... im 14, i hate my life, but what else is new? i get labeled as punk/gothic, mainly gothic, i hate labels because they are stupid and just another way to stereotype people, i live in Bellingham, WA (which you've probably never heard of) and if anyone cares, i am bi, and if you're homophobic you're stupid... dont get me started on that subject... i want to die... i dont care if people say they care, they dont show it, i dont care if people dont care, because in any case thats all i expect of them, someday ill make it, and ill go by as peacefully as i came, no one on here will notice, and i dont expect you to care.