Gone
She’s currently wishing to rewind time…to make the past disappear, including all the tears that have dripped down her face…falling to the floor. She cant even imagine the pain she’s caused…the hearts she’s broken…the amount of people she let down…the dreams that she never lived up to. This time she was going all the way. She refused to hurt them any longer. Tonight she’s going to cut just a little bit deeper, and deeper till blood pours out of her veins and covers the bathroom floor. This time, there is no going back. She prepares herself for the moment, writing the letter to her parents about how she never was good enough for them, texting her boyfriend saying she never would be good enough for him, calling her best friend leaving her a message saying sorry that she had to leave her behind. Her time was now…she locked herself with a knife and a bottle of tequila in her bathroom upstairs, the one with the pink walls with the flowers she had painted on them when she was 12…almost 6 years ago she thinks. She thinks about what she has become sense then…a failure, a sad excuse for a friend, the worst girl friend a guy could want, a worthless waste of air. She has no purpose, no meaning, she’s nobody, nothing. As she brings the tequila bottle to her lips she whispers, “you could have been something better…something that people would remember, but instead you’re worthless…stupid…hated…useless. You’re hopeless, a lost cause, no one wants you.” She takes a gulp of the drink and sets the bottle on the purple tiled floor and remembers the time she dreamed about being a princess. Everyone loved her and she was rich. Then she whispers, “Since when do dreams ever come true? No one cares about me…im nothing. No one could ever love me.” As she reaches for the bottle, she sees the glimmering, silver knife and snatches it up off the tile. She holds it up by her face and can see her reflection. She immediately drops the knife and says, “Why do I have to be so ugly? Why me? It’s always me! I’m fat and ugly. This is why no one wants me. I’m not one of the pretty girls, I’m no popular, I’m not rich, and I have one friend. I’m the saddest excuse for a human!” She grabs the bottle and swallows another gulp of tequila and thinks to herself about how this bottle is her best friend…always reliable, always there, listens to her vent…and takes another sip. She sets the bottle back down and picks up the knife. She raises up her wrist to where she can see it perfectly in the semi dim light of the bathroom. She presses the blade to her skin and watches as the blood slowly trickles out of the freshly cut wound on her wrist. She feels warm tears drip down her cheeks as she winces from the pain. Although it hurts, she takes another drink of tequila, then grabs the knife again…puts it to the same cut and presses deeper and deeper till the blood starts to change from a trickle to a stream that pools on the purple tile of her bathroom floor. She starts to feel a little light headed, but still picks back up the tequila bottle for one last big gulp of her best friend. She drops the empty bottle to the floor and knew that this was it. There was no going back from here. As she was slipping away, she heard a panic downstairs, and a girl screaming. She recognized the voice as her best friends and knew that she would miss her in the mysterious place she would end up. As her eyes were closing she could hear faint footsteps running up the stairs and her name being yelled… “Alice! Alice! Please Alice Oh please! Alice!” She didn’t have the strength to yell out where she was. Then she heard the door open, and used the last bit of her strength to open her eyes and she her best friend, her boyfriend, and her parents running in through the door. As her dad ran to call the others huddled around her and held her up. They were all crying hysterically asking why I would do something like this. Saying how much I had hurt them and that everything was going to be okay. I knew everything wasn’t going to be okay. Nothing would be the same. I was going somewhere new, somewhere that I could mean something. All she could say was “I’m sorry.” Her boyfriend kissed her and told her he loved her, her mom told her she could have never wised for someone more perfect then her, and her best friend held her tight and told her that she was the best friend a person could ever wish to have. She slipped away…on her bathroom floor…the one she designed when she was 12 and had the dreams of becoming a princess. The only difference was now her princess bathroom was covered in blood and filled with 5 people: 4 crying and hysterical, and one lonely girl limply lying in their arms. Now she was gone.
no this isnt a true story and it has nothing to do with me
