Author's Note: I'm not trying to send the message that suicide is the way, nor am I writing a guidebook of how to suicide. This is but the first chapter, but I don't know what's going to happen yet, so we'll both see. I'm putting this in movie/book crossovers since I have a feeling that I'll be turning this into a major movie and book crossover in later chapters. I don't know when the next chapter will be written. Constructive criticism is welcome.
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Chapter 1: Thinking
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Tonight was the night.
The clock read 10:00 p.m. Kayla stood in the middle of the downstairs bathroom, and looked at the mirror in despair. It had been three years since she had made the promise to herself to get thin, but she was fatter than ever. "Over three hundred pounds." she murmured to herself, "No wonder I'm almost eighteen and I've never gone out on a date yet." *and I never will* she thought to herself. A shrill call echoed through the small house.
"Kay! You need to change the wash! I need clothes for tomorrow!" a voice that sounded commanding even when saying endearments snapped her out of her self-pity.
Kayla made a face in the mirror and parroted 'I need clothes for tomorrow' to her reflection. "Then why don't you get up off you ass and do the wash yourself?" she whispered under her breath, making sure that the other person in the house couldn't hear her. "I don't need to do anything."
"Did you hear me, Kay?" the voice called sharply from somewhere upstairs. Kayla debated whether or not to ignore it.
She finally decided to answer. "I heard you, mother."
"Then acknowledge me, please." was the reply. Kayla bit back a flare or hatred at the pleasantry. Her mother was so big on manners, throwing around 'please's and 'Thank you's as if they meant something. As if. Kayla had learned that hard way that if you were nice, people would use you and step on you. If you were mean and tough then they would still not be your friend, but at least there was a grudging respect.
Letting the chore slip from her mind, Kayla picked up a book that lay half-open on the floor, and sat cross-legged. Leaning back against the side of the bathtub, She found the paragraph that she had left off and began to read to pass the time. Absorbed into the land of knights and pirates, a half-hour passed all too quickly. Kayla grimaced when she came to the part where the princess decides to throw herself off a cliff rather than marry the evil prince.
"Please." Kay snorted in disbelief. The book made suicide sound romantic, explaining in detail how the girl felt like she was finally flying before her body splattered below. There were several things in life that made Kay mad, and people not taking things seriously was a major one. She hated how movies and books showed kids trying to commit suicide: Feeling as if they have nowhere to turn, their friends had turned them away, they go and grab a razor blade and slit their wrists, or put a gun to their head and pull the trigger. "Amateurs." Kayla scoffed. Suicide was not something to be taken lightly. It needed planing, like a bank heist. You would never walk into a major bank with a gun and say 'Give me your money.' Something as big as that needs planning.
Planning for a suicide involved details, like if you were sure you didn't want anyone to find you and try to save your life, then you would need to decide what weapon you would use and how long it would take to die, then decide where you can do the deed and not be found until after the time is up. Kayla had thought long and hard on the matter and had finally decided on using a knife. Sure, it was messy and possibly painful if you didn't do it just right, but a gun would be harder to come by, and if you used pills and someone found you accidentally, they'd pump your stomach. She had already looked through magazines, looking for the perfect knife. Finally, she had found it.
It was a beauty, if she did say so herself. Carved white marble handle that was always cool to the touch, wicked curving blade so sharp, promising to slice through flesh like a hot knife through butter. She had blown her savings on it, but that didn't matter. What would she need money for after she was dead?
Inside the cabinet underneath the sink was where she hid it. Putting the book back on the floor, Kayla crawled to the cabinet and retrieved the green velvet box. Opening it revealed the knife, shining like a jewel on its bed of velvet.
Touching the marble handle, Kayla shivered as the shill that entered her fingers raced through her body.
"Time to get ready for bed!" her mother called down. Kay could hear her mother walk to the bathroom, get a glass of water to swallow the sleeping pills, then trudge back to her room. Kayla just sat in the middle of the bathroom, letting seconds pass her by.
Two minutes later the voice called again. "Are you coming up, Kay?" Kayla waited for a few minutes more, and heard snoring coming from upstairs, which meant the sleeping pills had kicked in and she would be knocked out until morning.
Kayla smiled to herself as her hand grasping the cold handle of the knife positioned it, the sharp edge beginning to press into the fabric of her shirt that covered her heart. "I wish I was anywhere but here." she whispered, and plunged the knife in.
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Chapter 1: Thinking
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tonight was the night.
The clock read 10:00 p.m. Kayla stood in the middle of the downstairs bathroom, and looked at the mirror in despair. It had been three years since she had made the promise to herself to get thin, but she was fatter than ever. "Over three hundred pounds." she murmured to herself, "No wonder I'm almost eighteen and I've never gone out on a date yet." *and I never will* she thought to herself. A shrill call echoed through the small house.
"Kay! You need to change the wash! I need clothes for tomorrow!" a voice that sounded commanding even when saying endearments snapped her out of her self-pity.
Kayla made a face in the mirror and parroted 'I need clothes for tomorrow' to her reflection. "Then why don't you get up off you ass and do the wash yourself?" she whispered under her breath, making sure that the other person in the house couldn't hear her. "I don't need to do anything."
"Did you hear me, Kay?" the voice called sharply from somewhere upstairs. Kayla debated whether or not to ignore it.
She finally decided to answer. "I heard you, mother."
"Then acknowledge me, please." was the reply. Kayla bit back a flare or hatred at the pleasantry. Her mother was so big on manners, throwing around 'please's and 'Thank you's as if they meant something. As if. Kayla had learned that hard way that if you were nice, people would use you and step on you. If you were mean and tough then they would still not be your friend, but at least there was a grudging respect.
Letting the chore slip from her mind, Kayla picked up a book that lay half-open on the floor, and sat cross-legged. Leaning back against the side of the bathtub, She found the paragraph that she had left off and began to read to pass the time. Absorbed into the land of knights and pirates, a half-hour passed all too quickly. Kayla grimaced when she came to the part where the princess decides to throw herself off a cliff rather than marry the evil prince.
"Please." Kay snorted in disbelief. The book made suicide sound romantic, explaining in detail how the girl felt like she was finally flying before her body splattered below. There were several things in life that made Kay mad, and people not taking things seriously was a major one. She hated how movies and books showed kids trying to commit suicide: Feeling as if they have nowhere to turn, their friends had turned them away, they go and grab a razor blade and slit their wrists, or put a gun to their head and pull the trigger. "Amateurs." Kayla scoffed. Suicide was not something to be taken lightly. It needed planing, like a bank heist. You would never walk into a major bank with a gun and say 'Give me your money.' Something as big as that needs planning.
Planning for a suicide involved details, like if you were sure you didn't want anyone to find you and try to save your life, then you would need to decide what weapon you would use and how long it would take to die, then decide where you can do the deed and not be found until after the time is up. Kayla had thought long and hard on the matter and had finally decided on using a knife. Sure, it was messy and possibly painful if you didn't do it just right, but a gun would be harder to come by, and if you used pills and someone found you accidentally, they'd pump your stomach. She had already looked through magazines, looking for the perfect knife. Finally, she had found it.
It was a beauty, if she did say so herself. Carved white marble handle that was always cool to the touch, wicked curving blade so sharp, promising to slice through flesh like a hot knife through butter. She had blown her savings on it, but that didn't matter. What would she need money for after she was dead?
Inside the cabinet underneath the sink was where she hid it. Putting the book back on the floor, Kayla crawled to the cabinet and retrieved the green velvet box. Opening it revealed the knife, shining like a jewel on its bed of velvet.
Touching the marble handle, Kayla shivered as the shill that entered her fingers raced through her body.
"Time to get ready for bed!" her mother called down. Kay could hear her mother walk to the bathroom, get a glass of water to swallow the sleeping pills, then trudge back to her room. Kayla just sat in the middle of the bathroom, letting seconds pass her by.
Two minutes later the voice called again. "Are you coming up, Kay?" Kayla waited for a few minutes more, and heard snoring coming from upstairs, which meant the sleeping pills had kicked in and she would be knocked out until morning.
Kayla smiled to herself as her hand grasping the cold handle of the knife positioned it, the sharp edge beginning to press into the fabric of her shirt that covered her heart. "I wish I was anywhere but here." she whispered, and plunged the knife in.
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