Silence Is Golden
I had always known my life would be difficult. From the very beginning. And as usual, I was right. I know life isn't supposed to be easy. I get that. Really, I do. After years and years of love, hate, arguments, betrayals, promises, mistakes, and pain I have learned that my life has been harder than most. I'm not okay with this fact, because I think I'm a good person. Do bad things happen to good people? Apparently they do. And that really sucks.
I wasn't alone though, I had great friends to get me through the bad times. And, I am very thankful for them. So, no I'm not an ungrateful prick. I care. I was however, one of those people who thought that the world was better off without my existence. You probably already know where I'm going with this one. I was sixteen and stupid. Like already sucks when you're a teenager, mine sucked even more. Or, so I thought.
My child hood wasn't an ideal one. I grew up with distant family and drug addicted parents. I saw things that kids that age shouldn't have to. I was seven fucking years old, you know? I should've been watching Scooby Doo or something like that, not watching my parents beat the shit out each other. But that's what I saw, every day of life. At the time, I didn't let these things phase me. I was a strong seven fucking year old. Of course, all of that stuff continued until I was about fourteen. I was an innocent child; I didn't deserve to see that. I shouldn't have had to. But I did. And I'm fucking proud of that, you know. I don't have a lot to be proud of, but I am proud of that.
The night it all came to a screeching halt, I was asleep in the bed with my sister. I remember waking up and hearing my mother scream. I was protective of her, for good reason. I shook my sister awake and yelled for her to come with me downstairs. We ran as fast as we could, it felt like it took me forever to get down there. I was scared that I was too late. We reached the living room and found my mother pinned down by my father. He had a vice tight grip around her neck. She was already turning blue. I jumped on him and tried to pull him off, but he's a two-hundred pound dude. How much was honestly going to accomplish. He slung me off his back and I hit my head on that stupid table my mom "just had to have" and blacked the fuck out.
I knew when it happened, I don't know how but I did. I knew the exact moment my mother took her last breath. I don't really know how to explain it. It was like a pain shot straight through every inch of my body, hitting my heart last and worst. I wasn't even there anymore. I loved my mother more than anything in this world, I still do. She was the one thing that kept me going. Yes, she did bad things. Yes, she hurt me more than anyone ever had. But she was my mother and I loved her unconditionally. The funeral was the hardest part. Because that was it. That was the last time I would ever see her. I remember how white the room was and it had this strange glow to it. I can never explain it properly. It was perfect for her though. It was a funeral fit for an angel. I don't think I had ever cried so much in my life. My sister and I had to live with our grandparents after that. They were a quiet pair. Never really had much to do with us. I guess that was fine, but in a way I needed someone to be there for me. They weren't like that to me. I didn't really expect them to be, because they had already raised enough kids.
I'm not the type to ask a lot of someone either. After all the crazy shit went down, they asked me why I didn't talk to them. I never answered them. I couldn't, it would break their hearts.
The whole "I hate my life, I wanna fucking kill myself" thing didn't start until my junior year of high school. Everything just seemed to go horrible that year. I dated this guy that was a year younger than me. I was head over heels in love with this jerk. Not kidding. Oh, how I wish I was. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed but he was definitely a tool. I thought he really liked me. Pfffft, yeah right. I found out that he was cheating on me by Facebook. How stupid is that? Pretty fucking stupid if you ask me. I decided that I needed to find a way to cope with the pain. I felt a razor blade worked the best, I made some interesting works of art on my forearm. It was just that in the beginning. It worked fine for a while. Then suddenly, it wasn't enough. I wasn't enough. I was the shadow behind my older sister, I didn't add up to her. I probably never will.
It was two weeks later the first time I tried. I was tired of existing. Never living, just existing. Never being enough. I thought that drowning myself was the way to go. We had one of those big, claw foot bathtubs. It was beautiful and I was determined to make it hideous. I lit a bunch of candles, I guess I was trying to be symbolic or some shit like that. I slid down into the tub and waited for the water to still. I thought of my mother as I lay there in the water. I remembered the lullaby she used to sing me when I was scared. I started to sing it, because I was terrified. I sung that song until I chocked on the water. I stayed under there for a good four minutes until I came back up for air. I couldn't do it that way.
It had to be quicker. It had to be silent. It had to be permanent.
