Writing Corner

WARNING!

This page is for my random writings.  The following does not exactly represent how I feel or my personal experiences.  They are just ideas and writings from my imagination.  Please understand that the following may be disturbing to some extent.  If you are rather sensitive to the topics of anger, hate, gore, or depression, then please be warned.  Some of the following writings on this page may offend or even trigger you.

If you do proceed, please enjoy and thank you for reading!


When it becomes too much…

“I want to commit suicide.”

That is what she said in her eyes as she smiled that forgiving smile.  She was a kind soul.  Someone that cared for everyone and never complained.  During the summer activities, she worked endlessly making sure all the relatives had what they needed.  Each one smiling back at her just the same.  Even then, I didn’t know.  The last time I saw her was on a Saturday morning.  She was making pancakes and eggs.  Breathing deep, she looked at her food with a blank stare.  I must have startled her because she jumped a bit when I cleared my throat.  That impassive stare left and in its place went the smile.  After she ate her food and got her things ready, she stopped just at the door way.  It was as if a barrier kept her from going forward.  Like she was fighting her indecisive will to go.  But she went anyway.  Walking slow, then picking up the pace, she left.  I didn’t see her again for another week.

The following Sunday finally came.  She had been missing and all my parents could think about was where she could be.  For she wasn’t a child, so the police had no reason to think she was kidnapped.  It wasn’t until a body was found on the shore of the forest lake.  An old bridge was there.  A bridge she jumped from.  Tied to her ankle was a weight and a plastic bag with a note inside.  Reading it was hard.  Not because of any water damage, barely any water got in.  We all finally knew who she was.  Like wearing a mask, she put on a front to hide how she felt.  The sadness, the anger, the pain, the anxiety, was too much.  It had been building for years.  The hardest part was that we all had a sense of it long before this day.  We simply ignored it, or pretended it wasn’t so.  Perhaps if we didn’t “encourage” her feelings, she would be okay.  After a while, she stopped asking for help.  She put on the mask and let it build inside.

When it becomes too much, the pain stops hurting.  When it becomes too much, the sadness rolls over you.  When it becomes too much, death has no true meaning.  It just ends.  This is what she wanted us to know.  This is what she told me that day in her eyes.  Instead I ignored what she said and accepted the plastered smile.  The smile that hid lies and something greater than I myself couldn’t comprehend.

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