Status: active mu***as.
All Your Fault
The Note.
Dear whoever’s reading this;
Unfortunately, if you’re reading this I am no longer alive.
Now before you go asking all sorts of questions, and assuming a whole bunch of shit, let me tell you this. I am not selfish for what I did. The pain had become too much. And hey, at least I didn’t do something drastic, like slit my throat or hang myself right?
Haha. Twisted humor.
Anyways.
Before I tell you how I killed myself and such, I’m going to tell whoever’s reading this what I would like to be done.
I would like to be buried in a black dress, to the right of my closet. Long sleeves, with lace on the back. I want my comfortable grey flats. The ones in front of my bed. With the little bows on them? Yeah, those ones. No worries about my hair, I re-dyed the underside purple myself. But I would like it to be curled, please. Also, paint my fingernails black. I accidentally forgot to do that. Do not spray me with perfume. I’m dead; therefore, I am not supposed to smell like flowers and shit. I want my cell phone, my makeup, and my iPod to all go to Rebecca. All my clothes, I want to be burned. Everything else, sold. I’d rather not have people wasting my beloved comforter. So, make sure that it gets a good home, alright?
Now, the moment you’ve been waiting for.
The reason why I decided to take my own life.
My dear friend who’s reading this.
You owe a great deal to Maddison Maquise.
Because that lovely woman who stated to be my best friend, made my life miserable.
She turned on me, told all of my secrets to everyone around the school, made rumors and lies about me, and continuously beat the shit out of me verbally. Yeah, she had pain in her eyes. But she was cool, she was popular. So knocking down her old best friend, wasn't an apparent problem.And she told me, to go kill myself.
So I did.
It was stupid to listen to her.
But it was making me unhappy.
I cherished whatever she told me, I followed her.
I was a follower.
I thought everything she told me, was valuable. Even long after she decided to turn on me. Deep down she was always the purple-haired, photographer. Soft hearted Mattie. Who stayed up all night with me, to watch the sunrise. To travel hours away to my families camping lot.
Mattie.
I hope you fucking rot in hell.
This is all you’re fault.
So, I truly hope you are happy.
No, scratch that.
I hope you grow up to be miserable, and carry this memory for the rest of your life.
You are a murderer.
And my best friend.
Complicated isn’t it?
Now, I end this note, leaving everyone with tons of questions unanswered.
But I’ll ask you all a question.
Why didn’t you notice my pain?
Don’t have a flowery gross funeral. Simple. No prayers, cause hell, I don’t believe in God at this point.
My body is at the bottom or Bardins River. The deepest part where the dock is?
My favorite place to go. Have the funeral there please.
I love you Mom and Dad, Please stay strong for me. Remember that I’ll always love you.
Becca, grow up to be a strong woman. And please, for heavens sake, don’t turn out like me. I love you.
To the people who treated me like shit all my life, fuck you.
And Mattie, my dear Mattie.
Are you happy?
Yours truly, Paisely A. Rochelle.
Age 16, June 16th, 2012.
Unfortunately, if you’re reading this I am no longer alive.
Now before you go asking all sorts of questions, and assuming a whole bunch of shit, let me tell you this. I am not selfish for what I did. The pain had become too much. And hey, at least I didn’t do something drastic, like slit my throat or hang myself right?
Haha. Twisted humor.
Anyways.
Before I tell you how I killed myself and such, I’m going to tell whoever’s reading this what I would like to be done.
I would like to be buried in a black dress, to the right of my closet. Long sleeves, with lace on the back. I want my comfortable grey flats. The ones in front of my bed. With the little bows on them? Yeah, those ones. No worries about my hair, I re-dyed the underside purple myself. But I would like it to be curled, please. Also, paint my fingernails black. I accidentally forgot to do that. Do not spray me with perfume. I’m dead; therefore, I am not supposed to smell like flowers and shit. I want my cell phone, my makeup, and my iPod to all go to Rebecca. All my clothes, I want to be burned. Everything else, sold. I’d rather not have people wasting my beloved comforter. So, make sure that it gets a good home, alright?
Now, the moment you’ve been waiting for.
The reason why I decided to take my own life.
My dear friend who’s reading this.
You owe a great deal to Maddison Maquise.
Because that lovely woman who stated to be my best friend, made my life miserable.
She turned on me, told all of my secrets to everyone around the school, made rumors and lies about me, and continuously beat the shit out of me verbally. Yeah, she had pain in her eyes. But she was cool, she was popular. So knocking down her old best friend, wasn't an apparent problem.And she told me, to go kill myself.
So I did.
It was stupid to listen to her.
But it was making me unhappy.
I cherished whatever she told me, I followed her.
I was a follower.
I thought everything she told me, was valuable. Even long after she decided to turn on me. Deep down she was always the purple-haired, photographer. Soft hearted Mattie. Who stayed up all night with me, to watch the sunrise. To travel hours away to my families camping lot.
Mattie.
I hope you fucking rot in hell.
This is all you’re fault.
So, I truly hope you are happy.
No, scratch that.
I hope you grow up to be miserable, and carry this memory for the rest of your life.
You are a murderer.
And my best friend.
Complicated isn’t it?
Now, I end this note, leaving everyone with tons of questions unanswered.
But I’ll ask you all a question.
Why didn’t you notice my pain?
Don’t have a flowery gross funeral. Simple. No prayers, cause hell, I don’t believe in God at this point.
My body is at the bottom or Bardins River. The deepest part where the dock is?
My favorite place to go. Have the funeral there please.
I love you Mom and Dad, Please stay strong for me. Remember that I’ll always love you.
Becca, grow up to be a strong woman. And please, for heavens sake, don’t turn out like me. I love you.
To the people who treated me like shit all my life, fuck you.
And Mattie, my dear Mattie.
Are you happy?
Yours truly, Paisely A. Rochelle.
Age 16, June 16th, 2012.
♠ ♠ ♠
OMMMF.Paiselys suicide note !
New story ;D.
Sososo, finally doing a story with JustMyRandomName.
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My best friend.
Hells yes, I can call her this again.
Anyways, her stories are sex.
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