George slipped his hand down his pocket, the bandages on his wrist rubbing against his jeans, grabbed his keys and unlocked the front door. “I’m home…” he whispered to himself, not expecting a reply. Mom is at work and dad is probably out drinking, he thought, as he took off his shoes and set them by the door. He dragged himself to his bedroom, and jumped on the bed. He took out his phone… “2 missed calls from dad” was the only notification on the screen.

What the hell does he want this time. Today was a pretty bad one, and he didn’t feel like interacting with anymore retarded people. His eyes drifted to the razor blade on the table by his bed. He had promised himself never to do it again, but he knew that he would probably break that promise, like he always does. One more cut doesn’t matter, does it. Little did he know, this would be the last… and those would be his last moments. But that didn’t matter much to him, as he always thought that this life is just meaningless. Just a waste of time. He often wondered how people were happy, but he wasn’t normal, right?

He held the blade in his hand, as he unwrapped the bandages that covered his previous cuts. Tears rushed down his face, the usual thoughts overwhelming him. Why am I like this… I have the chance to end it, but do I have enough courage? I hate myself. I hate my life. I hate this world!

The blade dug into his skin, blood dripped from his finger, soaking the sheets. But he was used to this. Used to hating himself. Used to dying over and over every single day. He kept cutting, in order to numb the pain, but it wasn’t working anymore. The cuts were getting deeper every time. Nobody loves me. I’m just lost in this stupid world. Then, he decided. Finally. Nobody would care if I died, would they. They might even be happy about it, cuz I’m just a nuisance to them. His vision started getting clouded by the stream of tears, which now also soaked the bedsheets, mixing with the drops of blood.

He took off his glasses and threw them aside, then he rubbed his eyes, making everything a bit clearer. He placed the tip of the blade high on his forearm, and pressed it down. This is it I guess… He hesitated. Come on, do it u idiot. DO IT. His mind screamed at him.

Finally… the blade pierced through his skin, and he slashed it down his arm, the red fluid sprayed all over him. An excruciating pain shot through his whole arm. Wow… I’m only 16, and I’m already gonna die. I wonder what mom would think when she sees her son’s corpse. Well there I go again caring too much about people’s feelings, even when I’m about to die. He looked down at his arm, it was wide open, and the blood was now covering most of it.

He started feeling light headed. He didn’t leave a suicide note, or tell anybody that he was going to do it. He didn’t even tell himself. What’s gonna happen to me after I die? Am I going to hell? Or am I gonna get reincarnated… the lightheadedness was getting more intense, and he couldn’t sit anymore, so he laid his head on the pillow. Everything started fading out of existence. Well, those are my last moments. The end of this dull, meaningless life…

“God, if you’re there… please make me happy in my next life” were his last words,

Everything turned white, and he felt peaceful. The peace that he had never felt before.

THE END