Liberation

Young women plagued by years of mental illness has a tragic ending. Something I wrote a while ago. Trigger warning

Alone.

I've always hated being alone.

Being left with my own thoughts and the temptation to indulge in self destruction

is too dangerous.

But here I am, alone in my own house. At my mothers encouragement. 

"It'll be good for you, to be on your own. Experience freedom. A girlfriend of mine is moving in with her son's family to help with their baby and renting out her house, I think you should consider it. Your dad and I will help-"

But she doesn't know I shouldn't be on my own. She doesn't know about the voices

that haunt me and the things I see that leave me trembling in the corner.

I walk through the house turning on the stereo and tv as high as they can go.

It's useless, nothing can drown them out.

The voices haunt me. The images disturb me.

And I can't take it anymore. I've taken the abuse far too long. 

But tonight, I'll end them.

My phone starts ringing. Which is odd, I don't talk to anyone.

Ugh, Jack. 

He just doesn't understand. I can't hang out tonight.

Not ever.

Friends are not for me.

No one wants to be around the girl that screams "SHUT UP!" in the middle of class to

something no one else hears.

And I don't want to let anyone in to this crazy mess my mind has caused.

I put on my finest dress. I straighten my hair to pin like quality. I decorate my eyes

with my favorite spring green eye shadow and line them.

I pour a glass of wine from the bottle left in the cellar after I shred my acceptance letter to Bucknell.

It's useless now.

I sit in the recliner and listen to the steady drum of the rain hitting the roof.

*Pitterpatterpitterpatter*

Tilting my head back, I smile.

It will finally be over soon.

I wonder if the coroner will tell my parents about the scars. The proof of my

endeavors to somehow claw my tormentors out, thinking they were hiding

somewhere under my skin and crawling into my head to voice their put downs and

telling me the thoughts of those around me.

I turn my head to the side and reach for the the object of my desire on the end table.

steel in hand, I finish the last gulp of wine and set the glass in the place where the

gun laid. 

I place the cold weapon, my liberator, against my temple. I will ravage the voice's

work place like they ravaged my life.

"Oh I hope this doesn't leave a bad stain."

My final words before I paint everything beside me red.

And I did it with a smile.