[STORY] A Heart Needs a Beat
Delicate fingers brushed against cold floor.
It’s summer break, a good morning, indeed. Sun shone brightly, its light gleaming and found its way into this room.
It’s hard to breathe
You typed those words, bear a sense of pain which crept slowly inside your wrist.
It wasn’t that dark. You like it that way. It was just at the same time, you hate sun shine to the core.
Because it always shine ever so brightly no matter what. No matter what happened to anyone in this earth. No matter what happened to you.
It made you felt like you didn’t matter.
They are red
That’s true.
You saw them, running on your skin. The feeling wasn’t that bad. It was just a little bit ache.
Because you had been through something more than that, much deeper.
And you would end this soon.
This very day.
Empty bottle laid so lazily behind you. You’ve drink whatever liquid that was there three thousands seconds ago. It wasn’t taste good, but you’ve been through something much more bitter.
Somehow, you started to feel it.
The aching of your heart, which would stop soon.
You just knew it. Because, wasn’t it the point?
To stop the beating of your heart.
Your seeing started to get blurry. It made sense, since you hadn’t eat anything from, when was the last time you even care?
You tried to reach the keyboard, because you needed to do something before you left. Like, forever.
You needed to say -type- something for there maybe someone who would find you and needed an explanation.
But you stopped.
Who would care, anyway?
Even you explained everything, no one would give a damn about your pain.
You Mom would just shrug it off, as if nothing happened. Because you were an accident.
Your Dad? You couldn’t predict his reaction because you didn’t know him. So did he.
And your little brother? Wasn’t being the only child his biggest wish every damned Christmas? You’d make it come true.
No friends, not a single real one. Because for these eighteen years you’ve been through, you didn’t know how to please anyone with just being you.
You are tired. It’s getting dizzier in every second that passed.
You’re looking at your keyboard and something pops up.
A chat box opened, saying “Hey, you ok?”
A tiny line curves against you lips, because at least a bored stranger curious. Some steps away from caring.
It’s hard to move your hand, but being a lefthanded you are, you type those words easier than you thought.
Your left hand is resting uselessly beside the touchpad, dirtying your white device with a bleeding thing you used to call wrist.
“I’m not”
You energy is limited and now is the time.
Every part of your body is starting to get numb.
You’re starting to forget how to breathe. It seems like those sleeping pills are on the move.
You’re so sleepy.
And hurt. Badly.
You can’t feel the rush of blood leaving your wrist anymore, but you’re so sure the bleeding process won’t stop anytime soon.
For the last time, you turn your gaze to a mirror, a piece of glass hanging on your wall.
You looked beautiful, with your green eyeliner on, your hair brushed and you even have red lips. It’s just your face kinda pale.
I’m beautiful
And with that been said, you leave.
Forever.