I Tried, I Lied, I Just Can't Take Anymore
Chapter 19- I can't go on, Not After This Mikayla'
Mikayla’s POV
I just sat there. What was I suppose to do? I had Mikey’s lifeless body behind me, and then I had Frankie’s body in front of me. I move Frankie, so that his head is resting on my lap. I stroke his hair, that is now blood soaked.
"I can’t go on like this Frankie. I just want to die." I whispered to no one.
I moved the lifeless Frankie off my lap, and went into my room. I picked up my cell phone, and went to dial 9-1-1, but then I hesitated. I put the phone back down, and reached for my favorite pen, and a piece of paper. I went back into the bathroom. I went into the cabinet under the sink, and grabbed my red and black makeup bag. I unzipped it, and reached into it and pulled out something- my long lost friend. It was silver, shiny, cold, and sharp. I haven’t used a razor to cut myself since I was like fourteen. I started crying, while looking at myself in the mirror.
"What have I become?" I say to myself.
I grab the piece of paper, and write a little note.
"I tried, I lied, I just can’t TAKE ANYMORE! Now there is simply one less heart left to break, I wish you all a farewell."
A suicide note, I think they’ll get the hint. I cry even harder now. I leave the note on the sink where people can see it. I slit my wrist. Not hard enough. I slit it again, this time my wrist starts bleeding uncontrollably. I lay myself over Frankie’s body, and whisper
"I love you."
I hug him tight, I can feel my eyes getting heavy, there’s blood everywhere. I can feel color escaping my face, I feel really weak, I start closing my eyes, hugging the person that truly loved me the most, this is it, this is the end.
I just sat there. What was I suppose to do? I had Mikey’s lifeless body behind me, and then I had Frankie’s body in front of me. I move Frankie, so that his head is resting on my lap. I stroke his hair, that is now blood soaked.
"I can’t go on like this Frankie. I just want to die." I whispered to no one.
I moved the lifeless Frankie off my lap, and went into my room. I picked up my cell phone, and went to dial 9-1-1, but then I hesitated. I put the phone back down, and reached for my favorite pen, and a piece of paper. I went back into the bathroom. I went into the cabinet under the sink, and grabbed my red and black makeup bag. I unzipped it, and reached into it and pulled out something- my long lost friend. It was silver, shiny, cold, and sharp. I haven’t used a razor to cut myself since I was like fourteen. I started crying, while looking at myself in the mirror.
"What have I become?" I say to myself.
I grab the piece of paper, and write a little note.
"I tried, I lied, I just can’t TAKE ANYMORE! Now there is simply one less heart left to break, I wish you all a farewell."
A suicide note, I think they’ll get the hint. I cry even harder now. I leave the note on the sink where people can see it. I slit my wrist. Not hard enough. I slit it again, this time my wrist starts bleeding uncontrollably. I lay myself over Frankie’s body, and whisper
"I love you."
I hug him tight, I can feel my eyes getting heavy, there’s blood everywhere. I can feel color escaping my face, I feel really weak, I start closing my eyes, hugging the person that truly loved me the most, this is it, this is the end.