Completely unedited- I just wrote this.

For an unknown reason, I felt like writing about suicide. No! I am not emo or planning to kill myself, I just had a story in my head and felt like writing. Beware, this is totally unedited! I just typed it and I am posting it. I encourage corrections and I want your opinions. Thanks. Sorry, it's kind of long. By the way, this is the edited draft.

Suicide

As I walk down the busy streets of the purgatory I call “home”, I notice the buildings surrounding me begin to speak. “What makes you so special?” they seem to ask. “Why do you get arms and legs and lungs and a heart? What have you done in your life?” I look up at them and reply with tear-filled eyes, my voice breaking, “Nothing. How can I do anything if no one ever listens...?” As if to prove a point the buildings once again turn back to stone. I wipe my eyes with my filthy sleeve, not caring for cleanliness, “Why start anything new now?” I laugh to myself. As I continue walking down the “rectangle of life”, or in my words, “the road” I see a beggar look up at me from his spot on the curb. Instead of asking for money, his eyes seem to speak to me, “What makes you so special? I am the one who has worked years for the company that now uses machines to replace me, what have you done?” Trying to avoid the man, I begin running through the streets, ignoring the blaring sounds of car horns and the banal chit chat of old ladies sitting on benches. “This is not where you belong!” I yell at myself, “Go away! You are an eyesore to this perfect world... Your parents are unhappy only because of you! That man lost his job, because your face affected his work technique. Global warming has occurred because you turned the heat on last night! Get lost you worthless freak...” Slowly, amidst a face full of tears, I make an inconspicuous turn into an alley known to no one. My parents had chosen our home because of its untraceable location. Blocked by a run-down car which has not been moved in years, and a rather large dumpster, resides my- or rather my parents’ house. As I approach the small, broken hut, I hear noises: yelling, screaming, and violence. Someone was crying- my mother? Were mother and father at it again? Walking up the steps to our house with exaggerated slowness, I open the door, only to see furniture everywhere. Lamps, once bought and cleaned with so much care, broken and shattered on the floor. Drapes, chosen from hundreds upon hundreds; ripped and torn with vengeance. Crystal wine glasses, imported from Italy, broken into shards all over the floor. As they notice my entrance, their fight increases in volume and action. My father, yelling profanity after profanity at my poor mother, holding a broom as defence, looks at me and begins roaring at my mother who cringes on the floor. Noticing the dire unjust of the situation, I step forward and stand between my insane father, and my impregnated mother. “Stop it!” I yell with as much force as I could muster,

“You are going to hurt her and the baby!”

“As if I give a damn about you, or your idiot mother! Get lost!”

With that, my father pushed me with so much force; I went diving head-first into a window. Surprisingly, it did not hurt at all. In fact, it actually felt nice, like I was being relieved of something locked up inside. This gave me an idea. I then picked up a long yet sharp piece of glass and had an image in my head. As soon as I saw the image, I knew, just knew, I had to make it a reality. Attempting to stand, I ended up falling on the shards of the window I just flew through. I tried again, success. As I walked upstairs, I realized I was staining dark red over everything I touched. “That might be a little difficult to clean up...” I thought to myself. “Oh well. It is not like I have to clean it.” With that, I flew up the stairs and reached my final destination, literally.

            As I walked onto the roof, I noticed for the first time that I had no friends. It was a rather silly observation really, but for some reason, observing the kids playing soccer below made me sad as I realized I had no one with whom I could share my sorrows, happiness, or more importantly, no one who would listen to me. I had never been in company with anyone, and now I never would. Without my conscious consent, the glass shard I was holding in my hand slowly pulled down my arm, leaving a trail of blood in its path. “Divine.” I smiled, “Simply divine.” For an instant, the pain felt like too much, and in turn, I fell on the floor, breathing heavily. “I will have the last laugh.” Feeling empowered to rid the world of its major problem, I stabbed the tiny piece of glass into my heart, making sure the entire thing went in. Pain. PAIN. PAIN! Those were the only thoughts going through my head at the time, aside from the immense joy going through my heart. “I am sorry mom, I am sorry dad, I am sorry buildings, I am sorry economy, I am sorry world, I am sorry...”