Therapy (2016-02-23 03:21:00)

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(Let's hope this doesn't suck as bad as my old .)
(Oh, by the way, trigger warning: suicide.)


A black-haired young woman sat in her bathroom, on the side of her bathtub. She had dark red lipstick and her hair was in curls. Splashes of light freckles lined her nose and upper cheeks, below mascara and eyeliner that was distracting people from seeing the amount of utter pain in her light, grey-ish blue eyes.

She let out a quiet sigh, the cold air mingling with her breath. Closing her eyes for just a moment, she imagined how nice it might be to escape. No more bruises, no more shouts, no more insults. Total darkness, or, hell, maybe even some sort of afterlife. She might could score a spot behind the pearly gates. Besides, she was wasting air, just like he'd told her many times. She wasn't needed here. She wasn't worth it anymore. Nobody ever bothered to notice it, but she was drowning.
She was suffocating in those walls, those pretty painted walls in that big house with painted smiles and painted love. None of it was real. Maybe she wasn't real. How could such pain be real? How could such utter hatred from someone she adored so deeply be real?

One simple answer; it couldn't.
She almost smiled at the thought of an escape. She'd never have to worry, never have to flinch away from touch, never have to stress or cry or ever be sad again. She'd be free.




A true smile curled at the woman's lips as she lifted the cold piece of twisted metal at her temple, a soft breath released. She pulled the trigger, her last thought only of pure freedom.

This post has been edited one or more times, the last time was:
2016-02-23 03:27:05

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little5 (2016-02-23 03:33:43)

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Really good, the latter of the first paragfaph could be better.

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Crush42 (2016-02-23 17:51:34)

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TFW you write a really good, deep and emotional story, but with a title like 'HEY SO YEAH' to almost guarantee people who should take it seriously overlook it.

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