Sincerelly

She tried to make a path to go the right way in life.  She tried to quit smoking, but when a family member died, she doubled. Two to four, six to eight packs a day.  She tried to get better grades in school, but she’s troubled.  A troubled teen in high school who stresses out.  They think anger management classes are better for her, but it just pissed her off more.  She doesn’t know what to do because the friends she turns to act the same way, do the same thing.  They have the same troubles.  She can’t go to her mom because her mom just beats her.  No dad to go to; no dad at all.  To make things even more complicated, she discovered the blade at age nine.  When she stresses, she cuts.  Her scars run deeper than her tattoos.  She also hides a secret not bad, but she doesn’t know how her mom will take it.  She decides today is the day she’ll tell her.  So she starts walking downstairs, to the living room where her mom usually is.  As she walks, the sound of the T.V. rises higher.  She reaches the bottom of the stairs and trips over a couple beer cans.  “Mom,” she calls, but no answer.  She sees her mom is laying on the couch.  What she finds out just made her heart drop to the floor.  As she walks towards her mom, she steps in a puddle of blood.  She puts her hand over her mouth to help muffle the sound of her scream...  Later to find that her mom put a knife in her own chest.  More questions in her mind overcome the amount of beer cans on the rug.  (“Why did she do this, how could she leave me? etc.)   Blood trails the bottom of her shoe soul.  Not able to scream anymore, she went into the kitchen, got the rope tied over the freezer (used to hold it closed) and headed upstairs to her bedroom.  She placed the rope on her mattress, went into her dresser drawer, and grabbed a notebook and pen.  This is what she wrote;

To whoever reads this,

Know that I hate my life.  I don’t think I was meant to be created.  God ( if there really is one) made a mistake when he decided to create me.  All my life I’ve been mistreated and the one person who said she only beat me ‘cause she loved me, just decided to leave me...
Well, I want my mom to be buried next to me because that will be the closest I’d ever got to be with her, and the most time I’d ever get to spend with her out of my whole life.  I never got to tell her that I love her, but even if I did, that would be a lie.  I hope she burns in hell.  I hope we both burn in hell together.  It’ll be fun!!!  Tell my friends, I love them.  Tell my girl, I love her and I said don’t be like me.

Sincerely,
........

She laid the note on her bed, reached to her right, and got the rope.  She then folded it in a loop, to fit the size of her neck.  She took the rest of the rope, climbed on her bed, and tied it to a high hook on the ceiling.  She then took the blade on the floor, and sliced her arm for the last time.  She sliced it to the vain.   To her, it felt good.  It put a smile on her face.  She climbed her bed, rope in hand, put it around her neck, and jumped.  Time seemed to slow as her life flashed past her eyes.  She never got to tell her mom about her orientation, or even that she loved her (even though she never did.)  Blood and tears fell to the floor.  She couldn’t survive in this world, she had no true friends, no true family and no true life.  But you know what they say.  (Like mother, like daughter.)