Dreams of the Beautiful Suicidal Souls pt. 4

Another short story over what someone might resort to, should their life be in shambles.

Dreams of the Beautiful Suicidal Souls pt. 4

 

In my bed I lie.

Waiting for my death.

I have lost everything. I have lost my wife, my children, my job, all of my money. My beautiful children…I can never see them again. The bank is coming to take away the home tomorrow, and then I will be gone.

There is nowhere to go. I have no family left.

The empty pill bottle mocks me. The bottle of whiskey stares coldly at me.

My stomach hurts. It hurts a lot. But this must happen; there is nothing left that this world can offer. I have lost everything and there is no way to regain it back. I wanted to die happily with my wife, in a nice home. With a front porch with me playing a little fiddle tune.

Today I die. I die here, in this worn out bed. I lost my life to sin, and now I see the painful white light.

Dreams of the Beautiful Suicidal Souls pt. 3

Another story to continue the thread that I have started.This story does not depict myself or any person I know, nor is it meant to depict any person, living or deceased. Hope everyone enjoy this work.

 

June 10, 20XX

 

Today is the day I die. I shouldn’t be thinking like this, but I am. I have planned on how to kill myself for weeks already. I don’t want to live in this world anymore.

Just for being different I was hurt. If I dated a girl, I was called a dyke. If I dated a guy, I was labeled a whore who couldn’t keep her legs closed.

All I did was end one relationship and began another. I stopped loving her and began to fall for him. I didn’t cheat on her nor did I do that to him. But kids will be kids and label and judge. All because I identify as bisexual.

They threw fake money at me, telling me that I should be used to this. Saying that a whore like me should take it as a compliment that people want me even though I’m “diseased.” I will say this with confidence that this “whore” is actually a virgin.

Ridiculed and laughed at, rejected by the people around me and those that called me their friends, I feel empty.

All for simply being different. I had thought that my school was about inclusivity and diversity.

I want those who tormented me to know that my blood will be on their hands. I want them to forever remember my name, to always remember the pain they inflicted upon me. I want them to always remember that the girl they killed was simply another human. I want them to realize that I had dreams too. I wanted to help find a cure, or at least a better way to treat, for cancer. I wanted to help my little brother heal after having gone into remission.

I had dreams, just like those that will keep on living. Just know that you caused me this pain. It grew so much that I couldn’t bare it anymore.

I want anyone who reads this to know that words do hurt. It can and will destroy a person’s mind and thoughts and hopes and dreams. It did so for me…

I want anyone who reads this to know that words can hurt. I want you to realize the words you are saying. You need to understand the pain people will go through. You need to see that people do take things to heart. You need to realize that words can be just as deadly as knives.

I’m off to drink now. Bye. I love you, my dear family.

 

Forever Eternal,

Mya Huxley