My College Essay.
I am having problems of what to do with the end of my essay. Its very confusing. Soo i am asking for you guys for help. But before you read this, I do not have any kind of feeling of Suicide, abuse or anything like that, it is 100% false. My teacher wanted something that is jaw droping so i am giving it to her. It is a Fiction. So yeah don't think im weird or anything like that.
The Life of an Innocent Boy
By Zack Krueger
I haven’t seen my mom in over a week. She probably left gambling in “Tunca.” I fucking hate it when she does that. She’s always complaining about us and how we should manage our money. It’s pathetic. It’s cold in this room. I can feel my breath; it’s as cold as a frozen dinner. If my mother could afford a heater then it wouldn’t be so bad. Why did my dad abandon me? Why did he have to go to jail? If only I had a “Get Out of Jail Free Card,” then that wouldn’t be so bad. I’m probably sick by sitting in this cold Inferno that my mom calls “Home Sweet Home.” I can’t go to the doctors because my mother took me off of health insurance. She took me off of the damn thing because she says that I’m old enough, “Haaaaaa,” if only she knew.
I wonder if she hears me cry at night. I cry so much that my tears cry. Why did my dad try to commit suicide? Was it the pressure or the ignorance my mom put on him?
My mom spends way too much time with Marcus, “my big brother”; my mom adores him so much because he is the manager of a gay-ass restaurant. She thinks that he is going to be the next Bill Gates or the next Donald Trump or something shitty like that. I wonder if my mom knows that he hits me when she’s gone? “Ohh,” I wonder if she knows about the time when he tried to get me to sniff coke.
I wonder if my mother remembers Gasper. He was the pet dog that was in our family for about seven years and she thought he ran away. Well, let me tell you a little secret. The dog did not run away, her incredible son decided to get really drunk and stone the dog. He was beat up so bad. I told him to stop but he kept on going. The dog couldn’t move but he was still alive. Then the awesome brother took the barely breathing dog to the woods and played a game called Target practice. You know, when you’re practically dead and Marcus continues to shoot you with a 12gauge shotgun until you’re not moving. Yeah, that kind of game. Now I am not an expert or anything, but I don’t believe that Bill Gates killed his family dog in such a terrible manner. Marcus told me that if I told anyone then I would be “fucking dead.” But to be honest, I really can care less.
Sometimes I think about killing myself. It’s a continues thought that runs through my emotions daily. The only thing that is holding me back is of course my dad. I love him so much; he was such a caring dad. Why did my mother ask for a divorce? Was it because she was cheating on him with the 16 year old juvenile delinquent who lived up the street? My mom is so unbelievably gross, with her taste of “Cher”and “Shania Twain.”I just wish there was an escape.
My mother told me that God wouldn’t let me in heaven because I didn’t go to church on a daily basis. The only reason I didn’t go to church was because she was there and I knew she going to criticize me somehow. So I just never decided to go.
If I killed myself right now it wouldn’t be that much of a loss right now. Yes, I know my Dad would miss me, but no one else would care less. I fucking hate this family. Why can’t I have a family that isn’t dysfunctional at all?
I have a gun in my hand right now. I am tempted just to blow this gun right through my left temple. But on second thought, maybe I should. I have nothing else to lose. I know I am not going to heaven, my family fucking sucks, my dad is in jail, and it is fucking cold it this room.
Goodbye Cruel World.
…………………..BANG………………
That's all i have right now so if yall can help me out then that would be great.