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Short Story on suicide


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Warning: Angst, profanity, suicide situation.

She had done a good deal of thinking about her decision, and a good deal of crying for that matter. Her angst had welled up within her, overflowing and releasing trembling rage at all she had done wrong in her lifetime, and all that had been done wrong for her. She had hit the wall so many times that it had a bloodstain from her constant fist impacts.

She still had not been relieved. She thought of her boyfriend, that cheating little bastard that had slept with three other girls in the month they'd been dating. She thought of her 'best friend' spreading rumors about her being a complete bimbo that supposedly did drugs. She thought about the parents that supposedly loved her...and trembled with disgust and anguish.

All of this, and more, flowed through her mind. Life had become so difficult, and it was only going to get harder. She had to escape, she had known that for months now. But now, now was the time to do so.

She withdrew the nine millimeter handgun from the purse it had been in under the bed. She saw how her hand trembled as she brought it up towards her head. She flicked off the safety and pulled the trigger...to hear an empty click.

She sobbed for the longest time, not knowing why her one escape route had been foiled. She cried out to God, asking why he had not let her die, why her life was so screwed up, why did she always seem to suffer?!

Then, the wind rustled through her window, and she thought she heard a faint voice saying," Poor child...have faith."

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