One cut, two cuts, three cuts, four cuts, everything will be alright. Five cuts, six cuts, seven cuts, eight cuts and still nobody cared. Nine cuts, ten cuts, eleven cuts, twelve cuts, she was alone and tears streamed down her face.
How had this happened? She was so young, only seventeen. But her own perfect world in which she used to live, got fucked up by all the dumb people around her. She cried, cried out all the pain which was inside her. But nobody heard her. She was alone like almost always. She just couldn't’t stand living her life anymore and she felt like she wasn't’t even worth staying in this world. There were so many people who deserved a good life, but she didn't’t belong to them
Slowly she reached for the blood covered blade on the floor again. Her arms and legs hurt because of all the bruises because she has punched herself to often just to feel the pain. And as she looked down her body she recognized the first time how many scars she really had. She was covered in them. From her feet up to her stomach, her wrists and her hips. The marks of sadness and loneliness were everywhere.
She got lost in her thoughts about her worthless life and all the too happy people around her and just stared at her feet for some minutes thinking about everything and nothing at all.
Her hand had stopped, hovering above the blade as if she was uncertain, but now she picked it up and tried not to let it fall again, because of her shaking hands. ‘No, I’m not worth it. I don’t deserve to live or even to exist. I just steal the time or the money from everyone and annoy them.’ She felt how her thoughts were killing her again from the inside. She blinked away the tears which were coming up and concentrated on her hands so they would stop shaking. As her hands stopped to shake she sank on the floor and realized in that moment how much blood was everywhere. On the bathroom floor, on the towels... on her.
But she deserved it. She didn't’t want to keep on living in this cruel world full of hurt and hatred anyway. The blade in her hand was brown because of all the dried blood, her blood. ‘Only one cut, and I’ll be free. I know I can do it. I’m strong enough.’ She repeated these sentences again and again in her head. It wasn't’t the first time that she wanted to kill herself, but today was the day she would do the ending cut. The cut which finally brought freedom to her. The cut which would mean the end of all the pain. Her hands started shaking again, because she had lost lots of blood and swallowed too many sleeping pills and morphine . She couldn't’t even remember a number, but the taste of them was still in her mouth. A little bitter and kind of dusty and dry. The taste was awful but she didn't’t want to drink anything.
A small smile sneaked up to her lips as she thought about the pills. They were so small, so colorful but so deadly and helpful. Some pills, some cuts and she would finally disappear. The sarcastic smile turned in to a smile made out of sadness and loneliness. She was alone, didn't’t have any friends, nobody who would miss her. There was no reason to stay.
She clenched her fist around the blade which still was in her hand and sensed the pain coming from a new cut, this time on the palm of her hand. After a while she opened her hand slowly and felt the blood running down her fingers and dropping on the floor.
The blade was still in her hand, but now she grabbed it with her other hand. Her body started shaking harder again, and she felt the effect of the pills more and more. But she wouldn't’t give up. Not this time. She tried to concentrate a last time, so her hands wouldn't’t shake that much anymore. The last cut was only seconds away. Finally freedom, finally happiness.
Her hand with the blade went towards her wrist and as it touched her skin she was calm. She stopped thinking and it was just the blade and her. Everything would become alright, she just knew it. The blade did its work almost alone. It dug its way through her soft skin and more blood ran down her wrist on the floor. Her eyes were following the drops again which slowly became a puddle. A smile was on her lips and it was the first time since long that she felt happy. Really and truly happy.
In her last breaths she recognized a quiet sound which wasn't’t there before. It took a few seconds till she knew it was her mother with the keys at the door. She closed her eyes and just wanted to die. Now.
‘Julia? Julia are you in there?’. A careful knock at the door. Then it opened. A scream. Her mother gasping for breath. Hands on her chest. A quiet sobbing. Her heart was still pounding, but for how long? The last thing Julia heard before she passed out was her mother dialing the phone. Hopefully the ambulance wasn't’t fast enough…
Toutes les droites appartiennent à son auteur Il a été publié sur e-Stories.org par la demande de Sophia Pühl.
Publié sur e-Stories.org sur 14.12.2014.