I feel empty. I feel hollow. I'm an empty shell that exists just to exist. My life has no meaning now. The noise. I can't take the noise anymore. I'm close if not at my breaking point. I'm at a loss for what to do. How do I end this suffering? How do I numb the pain or make it go away? There's only one way out. I walked into the kitchen and pulled out a knife. No one will care if I die. Hell everyone already thinks I'm just a waste of space. I'm worthless. I'm nothing. I'm just doing the world a favor. I raised the knife and stabbed myself in the stomach. The pain was immense but I could feel myself being cleansed. Being cleansed of this torture. I raised the knife and stabbed myself again. I fell onto my knees and then the floor, blood pouring everywhere. I could see a light. Was it an angel? Shit. I may go to Hell for killing myself but oh well. No one will care. I'm coming home. Wait for me Mom. I'm coming home.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
I'm sick of this. I'm sick of everything. My life has gone from hopeful to hopeless. I lost my job, I lost my mother who was the only person I trusted the most, and I have to deal with my asshole of a husband. I just want to run away and never come back. Why? Why does God hate me so much? If he loved me, my life would be perfect. Not a piece of shit. I'll never trust someone who just betrays me and causes me to go through shit I don't deserve. I deserve better. I'm not gonna wait all my damn life for something good to happen when I can just get it myself. I don't need God's help. I was snapped out of my angry thoughts by my husband's annoying voice. Will someone shut him up?!! "Giselle! Why aren't these dishes washed? And this house looks a mess!" When he grabbed my shoulder, I grabbed his wrist tightly and gave him a deadly glare. "Fuck off you pig," I shoved him away which he responded by back-handing me in the face. I didn't even feel any pain. Hell I'm already used to it. When my husband went to bed later that night, I was still seething with anger. I'm probably going insane. But can you blame me? I opened up the nightstand and got out a gun that my husband bought. Said he bought it for protection. Yeah right. He only bought it to threaten me and terrify me. I readied the gun and aimed it at his head. Thoughts of the great memories I had at my job and with my mother began to run through my mind and tears began to roll my cheeks, despair and desperateness clutching at my heart. I had to end this cycle of pain. I had to. It's the only way to gain freedom. I pulled the trigger, shooting my husband in the head. He was dead. I felt many things. But at the same time, I felt elated. I felt free. Sure I committed murder and may go to jail but it's a small price to pay. I just freed myself from an immoral husband. I freed myself from a life filled with pain and prolonged misery. It's time for my new life to begin.
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Darkness. Complete total darkness. That's all I see. Despite the fact that it was sunny outside and light was illuminating my room, all I could see was darkness. I'm a marriage counselor and I was on vacation. How hypocritical and ironic is it that I save marriages but I couldn't save my own? I was once married to my childhood sweetheart Jonathon who's a pharmacist. We were married for 6 years. But I committed the ultimate betrayal. I cheated on him. While I was married to Jonathon, I had to work for a matchmaker. I ran into an old friend of mine from high school named Richard who had become a billionaire. We began to work together and while working with him, I began to notice things in him I didn't see in Jonathon. With Richard, I felt....alive and wanted. Call it....temptation. Soon enough, I began to have an affair with Richard and 6 months later, I moved in with him, leaving Jonathon. I really broke his heart. I feel so terrible for doing that. Richard wasn't the man I once knew from high school. In all the years we didn't hear from each other, he had become a drug addict and alcoholic. He also began to abuse me. One night Richard took things too far. He tried to kill me. Despite my devastating injuries, I managed to escape to my old home and passed out on the front porch. Jonathon and my mother found me and I was quickly taken to the hospital. It was there that I was told that I have HIV. You can probably guess who I got it from. Although Jonathon did indeed still care about me, I had broken his heart to the point where it was almost impossible to repair so he divorced me. I don't blame him. Now he's married to another woman and has a daughter. I go to his pharmacy for medicine. I just don't see the point in living anymore. Hell I have HIV so I'm gonna die anyways right? I feel like the scum of the fucking Earth. As far as I'm concerned, I don't deserve to live. I feel nothing now but pain and regret. I reached over onto my nightstand and picked up my bottle of prescription pills which was almost half empty. I only see one way to stop this pain. After putting all of the pills into my mouth, I gulped them down with a bottle of water. As I laid on my bed, I could feel the pills taking effect. I began to reminisce on my former life with Jonathon. Why did I fall victim to temptation? Why couldn't I just resist it? Why didn't I listen to my mother? So many questions that I know can never be answered. The end is coming. I could feel it. I'm happy that Jonathon has a new life. I hope he continues to succeed. With that thought, I closed my eyes and fell into a deep, permanent sleep. My repentance has finally been done.
Saturday, June 22, 2013
March 26, 2009. The day that my life turned upside down. The day that my life took a horrible turn. My husband Charles Wilson was killed in Iraq. He was in the U.S. Marines. I'm 7 months pregnant. I was hoping he would get a chance to see his son. But Charles died doing what he always wanted to do. He died for a wonderful cause. I was in the cemetery, visiting his grave for the first time since the funeral. What am I gonna do? It's not money I'm worried about since I'm a doctor and make some pretty nice money. I don't know if I'm strong enough to raise this baby by myself. I really miss Charles. He was my first and you know what they say about your first love. He was my soulmate. Tears began to flow down my cheeks. Haven't I done enough of that already? I've been crying my eyes out a lot lately. I could feel a hand on my shoulder and I quickly turned around only to smile. It was Charles's best friend William. He's been a godsend to me. Ever since the funeral, he's been by my side looking after me. "I thought I'd find you here," William smiled. "Hey William," I returned the smile before looking back at Charles's grave. "He's in a better place you know. He wouldn't want you to be so depressed and sad like this. I know you miss him but you're a strong woman Helen. You can make it," William put his arm around my shoulders. "I'm not so sure William. He was my first love. My soulmate. I feel like a part of me is gone," I sobbed, trying not to act hysterical. William hugged me and I could feel him stroking my hair. "It's gonna be okay. You have a lot of people to lean on. You'll find love again," he whispered. I hugged William back and smiled at what he said. "With you?" I giggled. I knew William always had feelings for me. But he stepped back and let Charles have me. William never once made a move. He sure was something else. "Very funny. Maybe one day," he chuckled. Maybe I'll fall for William. Who knows? I felt a lot better now. I was slowly looking forward to the future. Rest In Peace Charles. I love you and I will miss you always. I'll make sure to tell our son all about you.
Friday, June 21, 2013
I finally reached the clinic. It was a very long walk. Why am I here you ask? I'm getting an abortion. I was raped by a fellow co-worker of mine. I'm only 16 years old. I don't wanna take care of a rape baby. Hell I don't even want to have kids period. When I got up the balls to tell my mom what happened to me, she was supportive of me. She even contacted the cops and had the guy arrested. When I found out I was pregnant, I was really scared. My mom wants me to have the baby and either keep it and give it up for adoption but there's no way I'm going through all that pain. I want no lingering attachments. I told her I was getting an abortion and she was pissed. Being the religious nut she is, she basically told me that if I got one, she'd disown me and kick me out of the house. Oh well. I don't give a shit. I don't need her anyways. It's my body. I can do whatever the hell I want with it. I rolled my eyes at the pro-life protesters. Seriously? And why were there guys among them? They don't know a damn thing about pain. They don't have vaginas. They don't deserve to have an opinion on abortion and women's rights. I walked inside of the clinic and went to the area where the abortions were being held. I already made an appointment with the doctor so I was in the clear. I saw that there were a few other girls there too. Well at least I'm not alone. I sat down and waited patiently for my name to be called. I noticed that two of the girls were crying. Were they being forced to get an abortion? Not cool at all. It should be something you want to do, not something you have to do. My name was finally called and I stood up, my legs shaking. I walked into the room and the doctor closed the door. It was a woman. Thank God. "Hello. I'm Dr. Eisenburg. How far along are you in your pregnancy?" She asked. "Four weeks," I answered. She nodded and got the materials ready. "Are you ready Serena?" She asked. Ugh. I hate my name. To me, Selena is better. Maybe I should change it. I nodded my head, not wanting to answer. She gave me a paper gown and smiled. "Go into the bathroom and change into that." I obeyed her and quickly changed. I wanted to get this over with. I walked out of the bathroom, leaving my clothes in there. After laying down on the bed, Dr. Eisenburg began to perform the abortion. I winced at the slight discomfort. It felt strange. But it didn't hurt. When she was done, she helped me down and asked me a ton of questions. Sheesh it was just an abortion. I'm not gonna die. After going into the bathroom and changing back into my clothes, I walked out and bid the doctor farewell before leaving the room. I felt....cleansed. I felt like a weight had been lifted from me. As for my mom, I'll find out some way to deal with her. My cleansing is just beginning.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
This is it. I'm tired of this shit. I'm now officially leaving this hellhole I'm forced to call home. What's here for me? Absolutely nothing. Without Mom, I have nothing. All I have is this damn insurance money. Oh well it'll be good for me to use until I can get myself into college. Plus I gotta find a job. I wish these people would quit telling me about God. What can he do? He's done nothing for me. All he brings is pain. I'm not gonna go through hell and high water my whole life like Mom did. I'm gonna make something of myself before I leave this world. With or without God. I finally reached the station and looked around. I was planning on maybe going to another city. I'm not leaving the state. No way. Maybe Nashville will do. Or maybe Martin. So many choices, so little time. I saw that a bus was leaving for Nashville and quickly got on it before anyone would notice. I paid for bus fare of course. I always pay my own way. After several more people rushed on the bus, it began to move. Finally. I'm free like the wind. Free to live my own life the way I want to without others telling me what to do. Suddenly I could feel someone falling on my lap. It was a guy. Was he being a damn pervert? He quickly got up and smiled at me. "Sorry about that. Accident." I noticed he had a nice accent. It seemed to be Australian. Nice. "It's fine," I shrugged as I turned my head towards the window. "Is anyone sitting here?" The handsome stranger asked. "Be my guest," I mumbled. He sat down, letting out a sigh of relief. He decided to strike a conversation with me. His name was Wesley and he was from Australia. That explains the accent. He moved to the U.S. at a young age and was now going to Nashville to stay with his family. At least he has one. Well I do have family but I'm not really close to them. Man this guy could talk. He sure seemed energetic. But I wasn't telling him anything about my situation. Hell no. But I was enjoying talking to this gorgeous hunk. He and I have a lot in common. The bus ride seemed to be very short since we were talking the whole time. When the bus finally reached Nashville and got to the station, I grabbed my bags like everyone else did and got off the bus. I saw that Wesley was with his family. They seemed so happy. I began to walk the other direction, smiling as I imagined how the future might be. Farewell past, hello new me.