Sunday Night Suicide.

True story. Just happened this Sunday.

So, Sunday night. I got drunk. I mean, the kind of drunk where you can barely stand, where you're bashing yourself in the face and screaming and crying, mascara running everywhere, black streaks cutting into the pale white plain of your face. The kind of drunk where you dig your fingernails into your neck and chest, dragging, raking, trying to feel anything but the numbness across your body.

And I was stuck. All these painful secrets, memories, agonizing nightmares... they're rooted in place. And if they were to be revealed or removed, shown to the people who have the right to know, it would rip them to pieces. So I choose to suffer for the good of those selfish, nasty people. Even though they deserve to have their lives ripped or pried from their greedy f*****g fingers.

I've tried to kill myself before... playing with the serrated edges of knives, playfully tracing little circles on my neck. Or feeling the pressure of an ice cold gun barrel, 25 handgun, right against your sweating temple. I've made nooses out of sheets, then tied them to a ceiling fan, only to have the fan come crashing down upon me. Or swallowing a whole bottle of aspirin, only to throw it up later with shaking fingers and snot running down my face. I've tried to dangle from a bridge, carefully holding the gaze of the black water fifty feet below the bridge--only to have someone make a call to my cell phone.

And all these times, I was sober. Not high, nor drunk, only sleep-deprived and exhausted. You put two and two together, you'll always get four. If you put a sober Gage and suicide together, you'll always get failure. So, with this in mind, I just decided to get drunk, change up the equation a little.

I walked fifteen miles to the nearest lake, jumping and rolling into ditches when cars passed in the middle of the night. I took out my piercings, pulled my curly red hair back and tucked it into a hood so no one would recognize this sad little b***h going to drown herself in the lake.

I got there, missing a shoe, drunk, hiccuping like I don't know what. There wasn't a moon. Not a noise. Not a draft. It began to rain. I rushed down the gravelly hill, meeting the pitch-black water. If I couldn't drown myself, I'd let hypothermia set in and take me instead.

I rolled around at the bottom of the lake, digging my fingers into the silt and sand, clinging to the bottom, screaming, water crushing my chest, filling my nose, mouth, ears, and eyes. I was coughing. I couldn't stop coughing. I didn't feel anything but a coldness that set into my bones.

I crawled out of the lake, everything still dark and set. I took off my coat, my shirt, my pants. I lay there in the sand and glass in only a bra and underwear. My body was so white and shivering against the cloak of night. I expected it was about two in the morning by now.

Well, I hadn't drowned. I coughed up all the water and weeds until my throat was bleeding. So, still naked, I began to walk down the little path leading to private docks back in the woods. I stumbled into trees, shivering, my lips probably blue. I couldn't feel my body. My feet are still cut and bruised. I turned in circles, not knowing where I was going, only knowing that hypothermia was beginning to set in.

Wonderful. I smiled to myself.

I could feel the whiskey on my breath, streaming through my nostrils as I exhaled heavily. I had walked for so long, never stopping, sometimes running... I thought about jumping out in front of a car or two, then thought better. I didn't want to put any more trauma on someone. Just end it quietly--well, at least where no one could hear my screams of agony, the last ragged breaths and torturous convulsions of my frail body.

I passed out, somewhere along the shoreline for a few minutes. An old couple came across my clothes at around four, and became concerned, so they searched for me. And of course, found me. They poured their coffee on my face, taking off their coats to rub some warmth back into me. I was close to death. The old man had asked if he should call the police, and I declined. I was still drunk, and my body still numb. They returned my sopping clothes and went back to their house.

Then, I took off. They had seen me. I needed to kill myself, quick, before they told someone and I was found. I remembered the lighter I had stuck in my bra before leaving. I honestly have no idea why I had the thought, only knew that I had had it. Shirking my clothes once more, I tried to set myself on fire. By now a wind had picked up, and kept blowing the f*****g thing out.

I jerked my clothes back on, feeling the ice that was forming upon them. I crammed the lighter back into my pocket and took off in the opposite direction. By now, I knew which way I was going. I began to run again, nearly losing my balance. I came upon two houses with bright porch lights, and knocked vigorously. I had changed my mind. I needed to get back home before I froze to death.

No one answered. I walked for ten more miles, back down the road I had come. By now I was getting scared. Shadows were moving, I was almost run over twice. I wasn't paying attention, things were getting fuzzy... I hadn't slept in three days. I couldn't feel my legs, they were so sore. My left foot dragged lazily. Probably frost bite.

Another big house with bright, bright porch lights. I ran frantically to the door, and banged loudly, once, twice, three times. At last, a really attractive guy in pajama pants and with a little nightmare-black stubble on his face cracked the door open.

"I'm so, so sorry... it's an emergency. May I use your phone?" I hoped I wasn't slurring. The man wiped mucus from his eyes, and smiled largely.

"You need to come in? You're soppin' wet." I shook my head no.

"I only need to borrow your phone."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He disappeared into the dark house for a few moments, bringing out his home phone. I clumsily grabbed it, and dialed my mom's cell phone number. He didn't have long distance. Wonderful.

"Ya sure you don't wanna come in, hun?" I nodded.

"It's long distance."

He took the phone, then disappeared into the house again. I was beginning to get a little scared... what was he thinking? That smile on his face was a little more than welcoming. I thought quickly, then raised my numb fist and busted myself in the nose. Car accident...

"Here ya go." I accepted the phone, and dialed my mom's number. 

"Hey, you're bleedin'...." I acted surprised, reaching up and wiping some blood away from my lip.

"I crashed about two miles up the road, in some field... then got out and didn't see the pond." Mom wasn't picking up. I was getting worried, now. He ducked back inside and reappeared later with a few tissues. I gingerly dabbed my nose.

Finally. She picked up, her voice lazy and cracked with sleep. "Hello?"

"Mom. It's Gage. Do you know where the lake is?"

"WHAT THE HELL? WHERE ARE YOU?" The man disappeared back into the house.

"Mom. I'm on someone else's cell phone, I'll explain when you come pick me up. Just please hurry."

"You've got plenty of explaining to do, you hear me? I can't believe this... what were you thinking?!"

I just hung up the phone, then knocked on the door. The man appeared.

"You need to come in and wait while you wait for your ride?" I shook my head again.

"God bless you, thank you so much... Have a nice night."

Ten minutes later, two miles down the road, mom picked me up. And grounded me for trying to kill myself. then bitched me out the whole f*****g way back to the house.

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[Krista]

So you know if you ever need someone to talk to I am here for you. Also I will pm you my phone number incase you need to talk anytime I am not here!!!

[~Xx Fallen Angel xX~]

You know if you ever need me I am here I will listen with out question.. I love you and I miss you...