Time has run out, for me.
Everything's distant and I don't know what to believe.
It's so hard, lost in the world confusion.
And I need to leave, for a while.
Life is so meaningless, there is nothing worth a smile.
So goodbye, I'll miss you.
And I'm sorry, but this is my fate.
Everything is worthless, no one who wants me to stay.
And I'm sorry, but I've waited too long.
So here's my goodbye, no one will cry over me.
I'm not worth any tears.
Beck Oliver poured a bottle of pills into his hands. He shoved them into his mouth and swallowed them. Then he pulled out his pocket knife and placed it in the center of his wrist. He pushed down as hard as he could and drug it from hios wrist to his elbow, blood pouring out onto his black carpet. He started to think over what he's lived like in his sixteen years of life.
It's been the years, of abuse.
Neglected to treat the disorder,
That controls my youth, for so long.
I'm in a fleshy tomb, buried up above the ground.
It's no use, why should I hold on?
It's been five years, don't need one more.
So goodbye, life's abuse.
Beck thought over his life. His dad had been abusing him emotionally and physically for almost five years now. Today, his dad came home after a rough day at work. He had started yelling and hitting Beck and then yelled at Beck to go into his RV, out of his sight. He went out into the RV, but could still hear his dad yelling at his mother.
After always saying how worthless, stupid, and horrible of a person he is, he always started to beat Beck with his fists, kicking him occasionally. Beck had had enough of his father. He felt so worthless, everything his dad had said to him for the past five years, he started believing everything. He knew he was worthless and would never be good enough for anyone.
And I'm sorry, but this my fate.
Everything is worthless, no one who wants me to stay.
And I'm sorry, but I've waited too long.
So here's my goodbye, no one will cry over me.
So here's my goodbye, no one will cry over me.
I'm not worth any tears.
"I'm sorry I'm leaving you, Mom. But you'll be better without me. Dad will probably be nicer and happier once I'm gone. That's all he's ever said. He has said he wants me dead. Well, he gets his wish right now."
His vision started to blur and his RV's door opened. He looked down and saw how much blood he had lost. There's no way he'd live. No chance. He saw his parents standing there. The last thing he saw was his mom's terrified face, tears filling her eyes immediatly. His eyes started to flutter shut, and he looked at his dad for the last time. He was smiling an evil smile. He started to say something and he could barely hear it.
"You finally listened to me, Beck. Dream come true. I hate you."
His mother looked at his father, clearly disgusted. "You're terrible!" She screeched while pulling her phone out and calling 911.
Beck closed his eyes, and never opened them again. All blood had came out onto his carpet, permantatly staining it.
(Every 18 minutes, somebody dies from a suicide.
Every 43 seconds, somebody attempts one.
If you, or anybody you know, is suicidal,
Call 1-800-784-2433.)