“Beep, beep, beep!” came the annoying sound of her alarm clock. !6 year old Brianna smacked it, trying to make the ear-splitting noise cease. “Oh, shut the fuck up,” she muttered. Another day, another stab to the heart.
When Brianna, commonly known as Bri, managed to roll out of bed, she automatically walked over to the mirror, hoping that a miracle had happened overnight-that she was no longer the hideous mess she knew herself to be. She stared at her reflection. “Nope, no change,” she thought bitterly to herself. She sighed. She had an hour and a half until she had to leave for school. Better get started. She pulled out all of her makeup. Time to make herself -try- to look pretty.
An hour and twenty minutes had gone by, and no difference. She was still the ugly mess she always was. She quickly got dressed and left the house, but not before she weighed herself. 110. Disgusting. She ran out of the house without eating anything. “I need to lose 20 pounds.”
She got to school and trudged into her first class of the day. The day went by slowly, and by the time lunch came, she was starving. She met up with her one true friend at school, and the two of them complained about their lives. At least it was Friday, right?
She managed to get through the rest of her (school) day without having a mental breakdown, but she knew one was coming. It always did. People treated her the same, as usual. “I must be an artist,” she thought. “I painted on this smile and they thought it was real.” That night, she went online, and noticed that her crush, not to mention the guy she had fallen in love with, was on. Not the silly schoolgirl type of love, but the real thing. Besides her friend at school, he was the one person she could talk to. But it was hard. It was hard to be alone and know that he wasn’t, that he didn’t want her. “Love,” she thought. “Just another form of suicide.”
They did end up talking, and he called her, though she still isn’t sure why. Why would he want to talk to a thing like her? Their conversation? Not fun. It came down to her dropping him from her life. He made it clear-If someone is hurting you that badly, drop them. It’s true-he’s probably hurting more than anyone else. But at the same time, he was the only one trying to help her…and really the only thing keeping her going.
After the call ended, she lost it. She was already upset, but she let go. After about an hour or so of her…lovely mental breakdown, she wrote out a note. She couldn’t take it, was ready to end her torment. The note would never be seen by anyone though. She thought of overdosing on pills…but they were locked up, courtesy of her parents. She thought of Jack, who had tried drowning himself, but the sound of running water from the shower would wake her parents up. She found a knife in the kitchen…a shiny, sharp knife. Sure, she hated the sight of blood, but what did matter? She would be dead soon anyway.
She still doesn’t know what stopped her. But she couldn’t do it. Not yet. The next morning she awoke…though she was never really asleep. Her face was streaked with her tears and her pillow was soaked. But what could she do? She knows one thing though. He doesn’t want her, and while she wants her life to end, she can’t drop him. She just can’t. It’s hard to give up the one who’s the reason why she smiles, yet breaks down and cries; the reason why she keeps going and the reason why she falls. Because without him in her life, she is nothing. But she still keeps on asking, do you think it hurts to die? It’s hurting so much more to stay alive.
That was night She finally let go of her fake smile and tears rolled down her face as she whispered, “I’m sick of this.” That was the night that the one thing she cared about finally crumbled away. The night where she had to turn around and walk away pretending she don’t love him, didn‘t care.
So now, as she sits and write this, the same things keep running through her head. So many thoughts, unwanted, but true.
The love you can’t have lasts the longest, feels the strongest, and hurts the most.
The only person I truly cared for left me with a broken heart.
I love you, I need you, I live for you, and I can’t take it anymore.
I’m dying, with or without your help.
So many fish in the sea, and I had to fall for the one who couldn’t fall for me
I’m so ugly. I’ll never get him. What was I thinking? Don’t eat that, you’re FAT. Not skinny enough. Life would be so much better if you were like her.
How could anyone love someone like me?
If only I had done what I was planning to do. I can picture it now…my note, written on the mirror in blood: Now with this knife flying through my heart, I’m flying up above. And I want everyone to know…that I died for true love. Dig a grave, dig it deep, place a stone at my feet. And on the stone, place a dove, to show the world I died for love.
I was once the girl who seemed unbreakable. The girl who seemed so strong. The girl who always laughed. The girl who never stopped trying. But I broke, crumbled, cried, and finally gave up. It’s over. With the exception of the phone call, tonight will be a repeat of that night. Maybe this time she, or I rather, will succeed.
