She woke up in the morning feeling completely refreshed. Remembering the events of the night before, she read over her story and was satisfied with it's questionable ending. Hermione grinned and dashed out her room down to the kitchen to clean up her purse from the events of the previous evening.
"Finally cleaning up her own crap I see." Jeff sneered to Hermione's mom. Hermione gathered her things, dashed up the stairs, and headed straight to the linen closet. She grabbed a few bottles and took them to her room. Hermione slowly took 17 pills and smiled as the numbness slowly seemed to cleanse her soul, then skipped down the hall, shouted goodbye to her mother, and walked to the bus stop.
Work passed quickly, Hermione passed the people she worked with without them noticing a thing was wrong. It got easier each day that she ODed, it was so much simpler than trying to talk to anyone. Things at home however, got worse, the screaming, the hurt...it was too much for Hermione to take. ODing and cutting were her only escape—her only true friend, the only one that would never leave.
Hermione wasn't stupid, though and she knew what ODing was doing to her stomach, and so after a few weeks, she quit. She was so proud of herself for quitting. Still, she continued cutting, it was her true release from the pain...from life.
My Sanity
Silver blades
Pink handle
My need
Swift cut
Red beads
My secret
Thin strands
Spilling over
My relief
My need
My secret
My relief
My sanity
Hermione looked up from her paper and smiled. Her writings had seemed to improve in the past few months. Occasionally, her teachers would ask about the meaning of the poem, but in the same way that Hermione did when they asked about the cuts on her arm during the school year, Hermione would gracefully write it off and say it was nothing.
A loud crash downstairs shook Hermione from her thoughts. Muffled screams provoked her to quietly walk down the hall to see what was going on.
"You're too damn stupid, boy" Jeff was screaming at Alex. Hermione could see Alex lying on the floor, trying not to look scared. "You are hurting me, please stop." Alex whimpered. Jeff had Alex in a headlock on the floor. Trisha went back upstairs as soundlessly as she could. She sat in her room and cried for what seemed hours, knowing there was nothing she could do.
Downstairs they were still screaming at Alex, when Hermione quietly went down the hallway and grabbed a bottle of Tylenol PM—sleeping pills. Back in her room, she silently counted the pills...twenty nine, thirty, thirty-one...fifty- six, fifty-seven, fifty-eight. Out of a bottle that originally held seventy- five. Trisha took them all, one by one, knowing the numbness would be there soon.
Suicide Note
Splattered
Red drops
Across the room
Scattered Memories
From your youth
Senseless
Thoughts
Of what's to be
Silent
Tears
For what they'll see
Shredded
Letters
Of goodbye
Suffering
Last breath
And then you die
Half an hour had passed, and Trisha was still feeling the pain, crushing her from the inside; making brutal stabs at her heart. She cried out in agony and then fell to the floor, shaking.
She grabbed the sharpest thing in sight and slid it across her veins that showed faintly through her pale skin. Red beads came to surface, spilling over the relief came, the way a summer storm quickly comes in over a valley, spreading relief throughout her body. This was the definition of peace, she knew it in every way. It was her only relief, the only way she could go on, nobody understood...