I can't take this anymore.
I'm so cold. I'm crouching on my bed, huddled up.
My blanket doesn't warm me. The only warmth that I feel comes from the tears which are streaming down my face.
That dreadful coldness…
I just can't go on! I tried so long, tried to pull myself together.
But it's not possible. Can't cope to live a normal life, like anyone else. But how should I?I'm nothing more then a test object.
An experiment, not even sure if you can call my existence as „life". But… what does that even matter?
Cause, whatever it is…I will end it.
Suicide is so egoistic, they say. Be grateful that you're alive!
But I can't do this. I tried, and I failed. Failed miserably. As so often.
I just can't do it.
I'm looking aside, to the piece of paper that's lying at my nightstand.
My suicide note.
Had thought a long time about what to write, and wether to even write one. Maybe it was just a pure waste of time. But I did it anyway. Just a few words…
I am sorry.
Words that could mean so much.
It's not about my suicide, cause that's nothing I regret. Not now, and certainly not when I'm dead.
Just can hope that my father will understand what I want to say.
It's my existence of which I'm sorry about.
I could see that I was always in the way since my mom died! In the way, ignored, and just good enough for some tests. Like an animal in a test laboratory.
Alone. Always alone, for years.
And they're laughing about me! Every day! Are thinking that I'm weird. Strange. Sick. A freak. Maybe I'm really! Would it be a miracle?
I went to a lot of trouble! But it plays no role whatsoever what I do and what I don't do. Everything was in vain. My triestries be happy somehow, not always lonely… failed.
And now it's to late.
I can't go on. Can't bear this anymore! Don't want all of this anymore! Everything I feel is cold and emptiness. Nothing else.
I have enough. I'm reaching forsleeping pills that are lying next to me. Enough, so I hope. There are easier ways to kill oneself, I know. But from all of that this one seemed to be the most…discreet for me. Causes less attention than to hang oneself or jumping from a bridge or in front of a train. I don't want to create any more sensation or annoyance.
Just fall sleep.
Fall asleep, and never wake up again.
Everything I can do, the only one of my acts which have a real effect!
Staring at my half- opened hand and the sleeping pills inside, suddenly insecure… But only for the fraction of a second.
It tastes so bitter. The world becomes blurred before my eyes. Heavy, dark tiredness. I just can hope that it's enough.
The feeling of coldness falls back. Now, there is only emptiness. But it doesn't feel like a relief! But tormenting. I should have drinker alcohol with it. Too late.
Everything I can do is to take more pills, while everything around me turns black.
And I fall.
Pain Flashs through my body, violent and unexpected. Somebody holds me tight, pushing me forward.
I'm coughing and retching, gasping for air.
Feel like water patters on my skin, drenches my clothes, and in the next moment, I throw up.
The sleeping pills.
Where am I? What's happening here?
I slowly open my eyes, and close them again immediately by virtue of the water which is running down my face.
Throw up again.
Why am I awake?
The first thing I see is smooth, white ceramics, covered with water drops and vomit. Undigested pills.
Retch one more time. Caught, and can hardly breath. But I need air! I'm not dead!
Failed. Once again. No matter what I do…
Someone is shaking me. Holds me tight with a firm grip, and punches me in the face with his flat hand.
I just want to sleep…
„Wake up, goddammit!“
The voice sound loud, energic. Tolerating no dissent. But I AM awake!
Have to choke one more time, but there is nothing left to throw up.
Another punch in the face. Pain. Coldness. The icy water makes me shiver. Watch the water running down the drain. Not deep enough to drown myself into it…
I look up. Totally emotionless, I Gaze at my father who’s sitting at the tiles next to the bathtub, grabbing me at my shoulder. I can't read the expression in his eyes. But maybe, he cares more about me than I thought?
He wants to say something, seems to reconsider for a moment, but then, he starts to talk.
I don't know what I'd expected, nothing compassionate, of course… but the words are sharper than the previous smacks:
„You really are pathetic!“
I wince violently. Water runs into my eyes, down my face… But it's not just water. But also tears.
Want to say something, But everything I'm able to bring out is a quiet sob.
My father gazes at me with a look full of contempt, attempts to consider if he’d like to add something to his statement. Then he gets up. Releases my shoulder, and I'm falling back weaklyweakly hitting with the back of my head against the edge of the bathtub. Once again I'm flashed with pain.
It doesn't actually disturbs me anymore.
I close my eyes. Hear leaving taps. Hear the bathroom door opening, closing.
Have no more strength to move. Just remain lying. Not even able to move my arm and turn of the water.
When he despises me so much, why hasn't he just let me die?
Coldness. Water. Tears. Emptiness. Nausea. Pain.
That's all I perceive at this moment. I'm alone. Again. Like always. Weak, and incapable to do anything…
I can't even die!