The End.
Brush Strokes on Canvas Can't Repair This.
I brushed my hair back in my mirror. The reflection of myself disgusted me. I was gaining weight. No more snacks.
The hole in my heart was growing larger with each second. Gabe would never forgive me after the way I treated him. His smile flashed in my mind. God, I loved that kid.
Escape the Fate is blasting through my stereo. The singer is Craig. I liked Ronnie better. But, prison guys aren’t really my thing. I really was bad at occupying myself.
I was zoning out for the longest time then I came back to earth to see a canvas before me. My hand had a paintbrush in it. The other had paints in those little first grader containers. Upon the canvas was a painting of Gabriel. I slapped myself.
“Get over him!” I shouted to myself.
“Ivy, shut the hell up!” My mother yelled up the stairs.
I opened my bedroom door and gave her a dirty look. “Leave me alone when I have the door shut. How many times do I need to go over this?”
She rolled her eyes and walked away. I closed my door again and fell down. The slits on my wrist rubbed against my carpet. It stung slightly. The pain evaporated what little emotion I was feeling.
On my desk I saw paper. Maybe a nasty letter was old school but my phone was broke. Well, Gabriel threw it down a mountain last winter and I haven’t seen it since. I sighed loudly and grabbed a piece of paper that you put in the printer.
I begin to write everything that I am feeling. My mom didn’t care for me and neither did Gabriel. I was officially screwed. My heart was being spilt all over the page. I crumbled it up and tossed it in the trashcan. That’s a three pointer I guess.
Then it hits me. As “Choose Your Fate” came on I really thought about it. I stare at the paper. This was the perfect time to fulfill the one thing I’ve been dying to do for so long. Suicide.
My life wasn’t all that bad to the normal eye. Lots of peoples’ parents’ were divorced. People got over it after about twenty years but their mom didn’t turn into a big bitch. I reach my hand into the trash and slip on some Chucks.
I grab a raincoat too. It is raining after all. I slip out of the house without a word from my mom and run to the mailbox. If you would look into my brain would you say I’m fucked up? No one just wakes up and says that they’re gonna kill themselves.
The years of bottling up my emotions must be really getting at me. At this point death doesn’t seem so cruel. I guess you want to know why I bottle everything inside.
When I was nine I spilled my guts to my uncle. Well, my uncle in turn raped me. I then kept everything to myself for the past seven years. You can find suicide much easier to understand now right?
I truly don’t give a flying fruitcake about what you think by the way.
The hole in my heart was growing larger with each second. Gabe would never forgive me after the way I treated him. His smile flashed in my mind. God, I loved that kid.
Escape the Fate is blasting through my stereo. The singer is Craig. I liked Ronnie better. But, prison guys aren’t really my thing. I really was bad at occupying myself.
I was zoning out for the longest time then I came back to earth to see a canvas before me. My hand had a paintbrush in it. The other had paints in those little first grader containers. Upon the canvas was a painting of Gabriel. I slapped myself.
“Get over him!” I shouted to myself.
“Ivy, shut the hell up!” My mother yelled up the stairs.
I opened my bedroom door and gave her a dirty look. “Leave me alone when I have the door shut. How many times do I need to go over this?”
She rolled her eyes and walked away. I closed my door again and fell down. The slits on my wrist rubbed against my carpet. It stung slightly. The pain evaporated what little emotion I was feeling.
On my desk I saw paper. Maybe a nasty letter was old school but my phone was broke. Well, Gabriel threw it down a mountain last winter and I haven’t seen it since. I sighed loudly and grabbed a piece of paper that you put in the printer.
I begin to write everything that I am feeling. My mom didn’t care for me and neither did Gabriel. I was officially screwed. My heart was being spilt all over the page. I crumbled it up and tossed it in the trashcan. That’s a three pointer I guess.
Then it hits me. As “Choose Your Fate” came on I really thought about it. I stare at the paper. This was the perfect time to fulfill the one thing I’ve been dying to do for so long. Suicide.
My life wasn’t all that bad to the normal eye. Lots of peoples’ parents’ were divorced. People got over it after about twenty years but their mom didn’t turn into a big bitch. I reach my hand into the trash and slip on some Chucks.
I grab a raincoat too. It is raining after all. I slip out of the house without a word from my mom and run to the mailbox. If you would look into my brain would you say I’m fucked up? No one just wakes up and says that they’re gonna kill themselves.
The years of bottling up my emotions must be really getting at me. At this point death doesn’t seem so cruel. I guess you want to know why I bottle everything inside.
When I was nine I spilled my guts to my uncle. Well, my uncle in turn raped me. I then kept everything to myself for the past seven years. You can find suicide much easier to understand now right?
I truly don’t give a flying fruitcake about what you think by the way.
♠ ♠ ♠
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