WARNING: mentions of suicide in this chapter

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So this was it. This was the end. Finally. Finally. I had reached my tipping point. Looking back at it, I'm surprised that I hadn't done this sooner. Either I had really good tolerance or I really enjoyed putting myself through a living Hell.

Hell. That was the only way to describe my life, if you could call it living.

I stared at the knife in my steady hands. It scared me, how calm I was, how ready I was. Everything had led to this moment. All the torment, yelling back-stabbing, stress. It all accumulated till I slowly began to crumble under the weight. Barely, just barely, was I still standing, bearing my burdens, but then one person, someone I trusted the most, added a tiny pebble to the weight, and it all came crumbling down.

Originally, the weight of my burdens was average, as heavy as any other average persons. It wasn't so light that I could ignore it, but it wasn't so heavy that I was unable to stand straight and tall. But then, it got heavier and heavier.

It started with the bullying. At first glance, it seemed like a bunch of friends just messing around, but if you listened really closely, you'd realize that from the conversation, it was a group of friends and their leftover. This leftover was the center of their jokes, their badgering. This leftover gullibly laughed along with them. This left over made fun of herself to appease them thinking it was normal. This leftover was always walking behind the group, only in front to pay. This leftover was just so grateful to have such amazing friends. This leftover was me.

When I realized my position in the group, I felt alone, I felt self-concious. I slowly withdrew myself from the group, but the group wouldn't let me go. Instead of letting me go, they continued to pester me. No longer in the guise of friendship, they destroyed me and my chances of making any real friends. No longer the leftover but the prey.

Then, I met him. Sweet, genuine, kind him. Being new, he approached me thoguhtfully. He ignored the glares I recieved and the confused looks he recieved. He was pure, untainted by the dirtiness of my life. I tried to push him away; I even told him the truth, that I was being bullied. He didn't care. Even after seeing it first hand, he still stuck by my side and even stood up for me. Instead of laughing at me, he laughed with me.

I loved him.

But then, he left me. Fragile me who hadn't realized how heavy her burden had gotten due to being blinded by love. His burden became too heavy, so he threw his extra weight on me and left. Broken-hearted and alone, it felt as though my burdens tripled in weight.

Weeks passed, the bullying escalated, the weight increased. I became more and more emotionless. The tipping point was nearing. I could feel it. In a final attempt, I reached out to lighten my burden. But not like him. I would never be like him. I promised myself that. I promised myself that I wouldn't give in to the burden. No, instead, I would share this burden.

I tried. I tried so hard. Today, I was ready to share. Today, I looked towards the last remaining person I could trust, my mom. But before I could even start, she yelled. She was disappointed in me, in my grades. She brought up things I told her to prove a point, but that only sprialed me more into depression. I stopped replying to her angry rant as she out what was left of my emotions. When she finished, I was already dead. I had been crushed under the weight.

So here I am now. A few minutes later, locked in the bathroom, knife in hand. Slowly, I brought the knife down to my wrist and drew blood.

But then, a thought occured to me.

Who would be affected by my death?

The school would mourn then move. The girls would call me weak, claiming innocent. My parents would mourn the longest, but even they would have to move on someday. From my death, there would be no change in the world, no real alteration to someone's life. My death would barely move anyone. I left behind no footprints, no fond memories to be remembered by. My death would have no significant influence to anyone in particular, just another death. Just another meaningless death.

I don't like that.

This pain, this burden I carry, I refuse to let it go unnoticed, to go down with me. When I go down, I want to make an impact. I want them to despair, to feel even just a fraction of my sadness. I refuse to die like everyone else. My death will mean something.

I will die a meaningful death.

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First chapter is up! Woohoooooo~ Hope you enjoyed this. Leave a comment if you want. The first two chapters are relatively intense, but you'll see the boys starting chapter 3! Enjoy~~~~