A Second Try at Suicide

finally she gets to die...

I let bottom of the magnum meet the edge of the table before me. When it shatters red wine pours from it onto my lap, drenching my clothes. I shiver form the coolness and smile, biting my lip. There's no one around, no one to stop me.

I set the broken top half on the table, and pull my cigarettes out, just opening the pack makes me remember the joy I once had before. But that feeling vanishes, and I continue with pulling a single thin cylinder out of the case, and setting it on the table.

I pick up the remote to stereo and press play, the sound of single rain drop takes up the air, and my smile grows, I even giggle. I picture my face. Slowly, from the bottom first, my chin and jaw, heart shaped, and my nose narrow with a small bump, my cheeks full, and my lips thin and pink. But my eyes..I never see my eyes. I don't want to. I can't see into myself. Because I'll know what's wrong with me, what needs to be fixed, but I don't want to change. I will never give in to the advice of the people around me. I'm too stubborn for that.

I move my Burnett hair onto my back and pull my lighter from within my bra, and take the cigarette. I light it, and stick it in my mouth and suck and inhale as deep as I can. I haven't smoked in years, since the last time I tried to kill myself. But my lungs relapse, and the smoke settles within like it normally would. I throw the cigarette away and pick the bottle up. I look at it. The start of neck of the bottle smooth like ice, but the base of the neck rough, and jagged, small little pieces of glass, big pieces, some jutting out further than others.

I break off one piece specifically, perfectly triangular, perfect width, and the point, piercing to the touch. I poke it and it immediately goes through my finger, but I don't wince or shudder. I relax and pull the small top out, and examine the blood staining the tiny vertex. I love blood.The color the scent. The texture. I love everything about it, seeing it makes me happy, especially if it's my own.

I get up form my chair still holding the neck and close my eyes. I think about falling out of the world, and how pleasant it will be.

I raise my arm up, bottle neck in hand.

Drip, drip, drip, drop..............drip, drip, drip, drop.

When my arm comes down I scream out of anticipation, an open my eyes.

I'm suspended in time. And I remember one day of my life specifically for the occasion. It was raining, and the boys were talking about some one.

"Ha, look at that girl over there........she's so sad.."

"she's ugly too"

"No one cares about her"

"She's gonna kill er' self isn't she?"

"I bet she is! I bet twenty bucks!"

I stared at them....and stared until they went away. Everyone saw my death coming. But I didn't, but still...

"That girl is me..." I whisper, and the glass breaks it's way through my throat.

Drip, drip, drip, drop..............drip, drip, drip, drop...........