It's been a while since the
last post. Well, I don't know how to put it but if I was lost before, I'm even more lost now then. Too much happened. That day I was really close to catching the bus, like really, really, close. It's got to do with my parents. As usual.
My family is just so fucked up. I don't know what to say. To sum it up, we had
a big, big fight about some stupid shit. I wasn't exactly too pleased with them
and they weren't with me either. So we just started screaming at one another,
and my dad got so angry he wanted to strangle me. And he did. My aunt was
horrified and pulled me away into my room to safety and locked the door so that
my dad couldn't get me in the meantime. And I was traumatized and bawling like
a two-year-old. It took me a day to become sober again. To get on with my life.
To eat. To sleep. To bathe, and get my homework done. I had school the next
day. As I sat down in front of my desk, I was in a dilemma. Do I really need to
do all this work? I was scared, and I can't control myself. Unconsciously, my
thoughts wandered to the open window in my room every now and then.
"That... is ultimately the best way out", I thought. Since I am going
to die, then what is the need for me to complete my homework? I probably can't
make it to tomorrow. I was already standing at the edge of the cliff. One step,
just one step more, and I will be free... All I needed to do is walk to that
ever-so-inviting open window, and soar. I don't need to do much. It's simple.
Yet, however much you think otherwise, it does help. It solves the problem. For
me, at least.
This led me to question the
meaning of my existence. It's scary, how in a matter of seconds I will just be
a memory. What is meaning of life? What am I born to do? Is there any logical
reason behind all this? At that point of time, everything in my life seems to
be devoid of meaning. Yes, maybe a decade after I've passed on, I may still
exist on this world as memories, possessions, etc... But what about 100 years
later? Or a thousand? I am sure by then I will completely cease to exist. Or
even in just fifty year’s time. I don't guarantee the lifespan of those who
know me. Or rather, if anyone will remember me at all. They probably won't. So
what is the point? If one day we will completely cease to exist anymore, then
what are we still living for? Whereby ever since I was old enough to comprehend
and question everything around me, I had asked myself this, pondered about the
answer... if there is any.
Back to me sitting at my
desk. Tears streamed down my face as I thought of all the horrid and unpleasant
events that has ever taken place in my life. Why am I having to tolerate all
this? I decided, that I don't have to. I have every right to end my life. That
isn't selfish. I , have no obligation whatsoever to consider the effect on the
people around me. Not like they will be
too affected anyway. So, that's it. I am going to do this. I kept everything
away, and tidied my things up. I walked towards the window. Hey, I'm doing the
world a favor. You had wanted me dead anyway. I'll fulfil your wish. Be happy
like you ought to!
Almost there... I looked
out of the window. Cars zoomed past. People walked on the streets. Perfectly
normal people who live perfectly normal
lives. Maybe they’re on their way home from work, eager to be in the comfort of
home. The warmth care, and love their families give them. Family. The word in
my mind’s eye was something I dreaded, something cold as ice and hard as rock.
Warmth, care and love is the last thing that I’ll use to describe “family”. To
me, at least. Or maybe they’re simply heading to the supermarket for some
groceries. The kids coming home from school. Yet here I am. I forced myself to
smile. I can’t be scared! I’ll free in a second. :)
But I never got to do it.
To take that step. My aunt came into my room. She told me she’s taking me out
for a movie. I can’t do it at the moment. I went out. I came back feeling less
terrible. I saw the light at the end of the tunnel… That day. Things might get
better. I don’t know. It may be train. I don’t know either. For now, I’ll try
to believe it’s not.
"We're all in the same game, just different levels. Dealing with the same hell, just different devils." Everyone wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die. I can fear death no longer, I' ve died a thousand times. PLEASE PROCEED TO EILEEN.COMXA.COM
No comments:
Post a Comment
D: Say something