What Does It Feel Like?

By T-U-X-I-D-O-G-R-E-Y

Summary: At fifteen, a miserable young Constantine works silently on a note that is suicide.

Today is August the fucking fifteenth. Yes. Fucking. I just got back from another visit at that hell facility they call Ravenscar. If I had it my way, I' burn down every damn mental facility this country has to offer.

On the way home I had to listen to that deadbeat dad of mine, cursing and cussing me…he said I was a sorry little dirt bag that would never amount to any damn thing. I hate his damn guts.

And then there's that mousy-ass mother of mine. She just sits there in silence, never commenting. All she does is sit on her ass, worrying that I'm freaking crazy and I'm losing my damn mind.

Then there's my sister. She's just a whore. She don't even come around anymore. Last I heard she was working at a strip joint and she had moved in with some guy that was already married. Guess she broke up some lousy marriage. Probably did his wife and kids a damn favor. Wish some whore would claim that bastard of a dad I have.

I wonder what it feels like. To have a knife gliding across your skin, slitting and burying into your flesh. I wonder how the blood will be. Will it be cold like my dad's or warm?

I wonder what it feels like to lay there and die. To feel the dreaded coming of death coming to claim your pitiful soul?

They say that if you commit suicide you'll go to hell. Don't make no difference to me. Either way I'd go. Even if I died an old man from natural causes. What use does God have for me? I'm one last little ass to crowd his all-so-great palace.

I'm looking at that knife on the edge of my desk. It's looking pretty damn intimidating but I'm gonna do it. I just can't go on anymore. My parents have broken my mind, my body, my soul. I have nothing to give and nothing to live for. It's a cheap way of escape, but it's the only shot I've got. Wouldn't last on the streets either. Where would I go? I'm fifteen and dead.

- John C. August 15th, 1983

So in the end our John realizes that God does want and love him and that he IS welcome in his house. Because God loves us all and he only wants us to be the very best we can. He is our father and we are his children. Our bodies are our temples…his gift to us. We must take care of our temple and love it. Don't do suicide. God would never punish you that way. Why punish yourself?