Death became an easy option. She wanted to cry, but she had no time. She wanted to change her life, but she didn't believe in miracles. For all the pain and anguish she had carried with her, it suddenly became too much to bear. Life had dealt her the last card but she had no spirit left to play with.
The darkness bit into her, memories like poison flowed through her. She fought against them, but as sleep won out she was dragged back to the past. Death became no longer merely an option but a necessity to find peace.
The pills lay next to her. They looked beautiful. She knew they could end it for her but she was so afraid. What would be waiting for her on the other side? Was there another side? All she knew was once she had gone that far, there would be no return.
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She sat there sobbing quietly, her mind tormenting her. She struggled to make sense of herself. The pain that was once emotional was now purely physical and nothing could heal it. The raw, open wounds would remain as fresh as the day they were created. Everything she had fought so hard to forget tore into her like daggers, dancing across her skin, drawing blood in a tide of crimson that stained any happiness she once had. It was tearing her apart.
She cradled the pills in her hands, like precious diamonds. With a breath of courage, she threw the pills down her neck. They fell down her throat with ease, headed towards the emptiness of her own hell.
She slowly sank down onto the floor, her head rolling sideways uncontrollably. Her mind started to fog over, numbing all her senses. The baby's cries began to recede as she lay almost motionless on the cold floor. She cried out in pain, the distant sound of her own voice pierced her fragile mind. Her life force once a blaze of colours is now black reflecting her feelings of confusion. She is lost yet yearning to be found. She is drowning in the darkness, helpless as it slowly devours her, playing with her mind until there is nothing left but a shadow of someone who was once whole
She wasn't alive anymore, she simply existed. She still looked the same, but she wasn't and never would be. A man who had taken everything from her, her innocence, her virginity and now her life, she never even saw his face. She was left to bring up a child sired by a monster. A child conceived out of hate.
Was it not enough that she had to be reminded of it everyday? Every time she woke up in the morning, every time she closed her eyes...What was the need of his sinister actions? Was it that he didn't understand the word "no"? Didn't he realise the screams were out of pure terror; that kicking profusely were signals to stop; that the look on her face was of complete despair and frustration; that the touch of his hand made her blood run cold; that he was stealing her dignity, her pride, her self respect?!
She made that same journey home every evening like clockwork; she'd been there a thousand times. She turned away from the buildings, away from the street light and her hollow footsteps were the only sounds that followed her...Her heart started to pound faster as she tried to gain vision in the pitch black that she had descended into. Her body felt like it was being mauled and still the real horrors had not begun. Dependant on her hearing as her main working sense, she could hear his approach. His curses screamed of anger at her venerable position, his threats called out like promises, nurturing the fear that grew in her stomach.
Gagged and bound, her legs flew from under her as she was thrown to the ground. Mud and dirt covered her like a second skin and fell for what seemed to be an eternity, while above; she could still hear him.
The sound of him as he forced torture after torture on her, the sound of him as he violated her body time and again, while she lay there helplessly, the tears biting at her eyes like acid.
The thing that hurt the most was the realisation of what had just happened to her. As she scrambled blindly in the darkness, a maze of dangers that had waited to harm her. The unknown monsters that hid in the depths of the shadows warped her mind.
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Suicide Is Never Painless. (2017, Oct 16). Retrieved from https://phdessay.com/suicide-never-painless/
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