You want to quit. You want to leave this big bad world. You are tired of crying in your bed and locking yourself in your room. You want to end it all. You have decided to do it. Nothing can change your mind.You go to the washroom and lock the door. Take out a blade. It just takes a stroke or two to exit all the sufferings. You will feel pain but won’t actually feel it. Cause you are bearing the small pain to escape all the greater pains of life. You look in the mirror for one last time. You can’t make eye contact with your image. You don’t want. You look down and pick up the killing machine. ‘Just a stroke to eternal freedom’, you think to yourself. Slash. 

Blood gushes out. You feel no pain.

At this critical moment, you look into your eyes in the mirror. The sudden realisation hits you like a bolt. You have shattered your life. You have broken it into such small fragments that it can never be put back. You have killed yourself and you know it. Was the world really this bad? Wasn’t I the reason of how my world was? You know the answers. You repent. But you can do nothing but watch yourself die. Now comes the pain. It is massive and unbearable. There’s nothing more painful than watching yourself kill yourself. And this is the most painful death.


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