One night after I got home from an shitty day of fighting with my so called "friends" and pretty much everybody else in my fucking life, I went into my room and closed the door. I took out a bottle of pills I had been saving for years. I always knew I would use them eventually. I poured all the pills into my hand. A mixture of magenta, navy, yellow and neon plastered the palm of my hand like a rainbow.
I tipped them into my mouth. My cheeks felt like bursting and I felt like I was eating broken glass. I picked up a bottle of water and sipped it gently. I swallowed the candy-like drugs one by one, each making its own journey through my body by itself, unaided.
Suddenly, I felt drowsy and went to sit down on my bed. I saw flashing lights of all colors. Millions of thoughts went through my diseased, sick mind.
I am worthless.
I have no friends and everybody hates me. I should've done this years ago instead of waiting until I turned 16.
I am tired of locking myself up and spending all my free time with a knife, cutting my wrists.
I don't care who finds my dead body, I JUST WANT TO FUCKING DIE!
I went to bed a few minutes after I took the drugs, knowing I'd never wake up.
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How was it? Good, bad, awful? Should I continue it or just leave it as a one shot?