Cut

I’m looking around my classroom with the thoughts in my head of “who has ever thought about taking their own lives?” Sounds pretty brutal or messed up but I will at least tell you I have. I am now. These are the last laughs, smiles, and breaths I will have before I go home and kill myself. If you asked anyone around these rows of desks, they would say “Nora? She is the nicest girl ever; she always is smiling, joyful, and so positive”. It’s called a mask. Everyone has one and it’s your choice to put it on or not. I choose to put mine on because I hate it when people feel bad for me because half of the time, they’re not really hearing what I’m saying. There are some things you are better off keeping to yourself.

3-2-1. it’s 3:20. I wonder if my friends ever think that this will be the last time they hug me while I’m still breathing and hearing them say “have a good night”. I walk to my little Toyota and begin to drive to my death. I walk my dogs when I get home so my mom isn’t upset that they peed in the house. I don’t want to make her even more upset. I have two and a half hours till she pulls up and sees my body on the ground, covered in blood. Pen, paper, sit, think, cry, slam, and draw my bath. I take off my clothes piece by piece, about to step into the bath of water and tears and soon to be blood. I reach for my partner in crime, the razor.

It’s shining so bright, and getting closer to my arm. I am done with this life. Cut. Thank you for leaving my life dad. Cut. Sorry I was never good enough for you mommy. Cut. I’m sorry to the love of my life that I wasn’t perfect for you. Cut. Where were you, God? Cut. I begin to close my eyes and visualize what it will be like in Hell. I know I’m going there, let’s be honest. I am lost in such a dark place, I can’t get out. “I can’t get ou—“.

I hear the door slam. “Nora? I’m home early. I wanted to surprise you”. It’s my sister. “Elizabeth? Leave, please.” She stops at the bathroom door. “Nora, what are you doing?” I’m trying so hard to not bawl my eyes out. She really cares; I can hear it in the words and in the silence. Why do you have to be here right now? She is not stopping me. I can’t take one more day on this earth.

Elizabeth rushes in the bathroom. “What do you think you’re doing?! Nora, wake up please, please wake up.” I can barely see her between the tears in my eyes. I feel her dragging my body out of the bathtub and laying me in her lap. Repeatedly asking “why are you doing this?” I can’t tell which hurts the most; my arm, still living on this earth, or finally seeing someone wants to hear what’s on my mind.

My sister gives me anti-bacterial cream and bandages but there is no way I can cover these up. She sits down across the living room from me and says “ you know we have to tell mom, right?” Great, I really messed up now. People are going to look at me different, just what I need. “Why’d you do it Nora?” I begin to tell her my story of why I did what I did. The thing is that the only thing that made me happier at the end of the day is someone actually reached out to hear what was on Nora’s mind. I’m glad someone actually heard my problems and didn’t label me as psychotic, or crazy. Someone wanted to take time out of their day and ask, “How are you?”