Nightmare

She laid there, silence chilling her every thought. So many lies had she heard and she'd finally had enough. She knew it was wrong, and that noone should treat her this way. Noone should make her feel the impulse to just end her life. Too long had she been pushed to the edge, shoved off as not important. She felt the darkness filling her vains, no longer would she take it. She held the bottle in steady hands, read carefully how much was the right dose. She locked the door, turned on her radio, and laid back.  Suddenly the impulse came, she raised the bottle, shaking a few into her palm, looking at the size, the shape of her killer. She knew they'ed never miss her. Her father, a drunk, beat her mother and her senseless, Her mother smoked pot to numb the pain. She had tried to find other resorts, nothing took away this pain.  She had to end it, now. She swallowed them fast, waiting for her father to come busting in. She took more, and more, until the bottle fell to the ground empty.  Her head began to spin, stomach curling in knots, her sight fading from black to red. If only, she thought, If only they cared...its over now. Her mind faded out, now she saw nothing but black, is this it, she thought, is this hell? She was floating, down toward her eternity, she thought. She ended it, that fast, she was gone, suddenly it all flooded back. She saw her mother weeping over her cold, lifeless body, her father screaming into the fone, blaming himself, and her two year old brother, peeping in, tears streaming down his cheek. How could she leave him, alone, she thought. She knew what it was like to have noone, to be left, to fend on her own, what was she doing. The picture faded away, she screamed into the darkness, pleading for her life back. She sat down, crying and knew she chose wrong. Laying there on the ground, she knew she couldn't undo this, God would never take pity on her. She fell into a deep sleep, dreaming the same picture over and over, seeing her little brothers face, crying. A bright light entered her sight, and she woke up  to the sun shining in her window, and her holding the bottle in her hand.

Author's Note

this one just popped in my head.

Reviews

[Cassie Meno]

Very interesting. Almost like an 'It's a wonderful life' concept. If only everyone who chose that path had the opportunity to see the consequences and change their minds. I love the way the hope shined through at the end. You really managed to convey the emotions. "...waiting for her father to come busting in" it's almost as if she's looking for one last strand of hope to hold on to before committing the act, almost like a small sense of foreshadowing. Thanks so much for sharing this.

[Honey]

O.O jeezum...
well, that was dramatical ^0^
(dude, howd you get the idea for this one...)
i like how even though she woke up from the dream, she still had a bottle in her hand
also, those are some nice descriptions of her feelings
but i think that her lil bro should be a bit older
awesome job, and i think it would be coolio if you added a sequel
ps *veins

[Jim Parson]

The pain and despair in this write scream through your words. An excellent write, albeit heart-wrenching.

[D.J. Lutz]

Scary good. I didn't expect the ending, but was glad you wrote it! Thanks for sharing your words.