DeadlyxXxMemories

YOU KNOW YOU HAVE 
A SAD LOVE LIFE
WHEN YOU LIKE
A GUY WHO IS ALREADY
TAKEN, AND YOU KNOW
YOU CAN NEVER HAVE.

 

and thats why it is called a crush...

because it will still
leave your heart

crushed and broken

on the inside...

      Today I got out of my comfort zone

    && gave a hot guy my number...






__


deadlyxmemories

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VSrAJsWvEIc&feature=related
must watch.



 

deadlyxmemories.myquote.myformat.

 You’re
sitting in your room
with a pen in your hand and
a blank piece of paper in front of you.
Your hand is shaking, and the tears begin again
- for the third time in the past hour. ‘To my family’-
you write at the top of the page, but decide it’s a bad way to begin your letter
~your suicide letter. You try again, start over ~ again and again,but you don’t know where to
begin. No one understands you;no one knows what you’re going through, you’re alone or at least that’s what you think. Nobody cares if you’re alive or not, you mean nothing to nobody. It’s night, and you slip into bed. ’Goodbye’ you whisper into the darkness. And with that, you take your last breathe and end it
all. No body cares, right?  It’s the following morning, 7 : 2 1, your mother comes and knocks on
your door. She doesn't know you can’t hear her, she doesn't know you’re gone. She knocks
a few more times, calling your name to open up. After no reply from your side of the
door, she opens it and screams. She collapses on the ground while your dad
rushes to your room. Your siblings have already left for school. Your
very weak mother collects all the energy she’s got which is close
to nothing to walk over to your bed. She leans over your
dead body, crying, squeezing your hand, screaming.
Your dad is trying to stay strong, but the tears
escape his eyes; calling 911 with his left
hand while his other one is
on your mother’s back.
Your mother blames
herself.
All those times she
had said ‘no’ to you, all those
times she had screamed at you,and sent
you to your room over something stupid. Your father will
blame himself for not being there for you when you asked for help, for
being away from home at work for long. Nobody cares, right? 8 : 3 4.
There’s a knock on your classroom door it’s the school principle. She looks more worried
than ever. She calls the teacher to the side; all the students worried: what’s going on? The principle then later announces about your suicide. The popular girl that always called you fat and ugly is now blaming herself. The kid that would always copy your homework but treat you like crap ~ he’s blaming himself.The boy that sits behind you ~ the one that always threw things at you during class ~ he’s blaming himself too. The teacher is blaming herself - for all those times she’d scream at you for forgetting your
homework, or not listening in class. People are crying, screaming, shocked, in regret of
what they did. They’ll all be devastated - even the kids you’ve never talked to before.
Still nobody cares about you, right? Your siblings get home. Your mother has to
tell them that you’re gone; forever. Your little sister ~ no matter how
many times she’s screamed at you, told you she hated you and
stole your stuff ~ always loved you, and saw you as
her hero; her role model. She now starts to
blame herself;why didn’t I do what
she told me to do when she
told me to? Why did I
take her stuff even
when she asked
me not to?
This is all my fault.
Your brother gets home ~
the boy that never cries. He’s now in
his room; mad at himself ~ he caused your death.
All those times he’d played pranks on you. He’s punching holes in
his wall, turning over things; he doesn’t know how to deal with the fact that you’re gone.
Forever. Nobody cares about you, right? Right? It has been over a month. The door to your room has been closed all this time. Everything is different now. Your brother has to be sent to anger management classes, your little sister cries everyday still waiting for you to come back. Everyday she waits for you to come back home. The popular girls have now turned anorexic. They don’t know how
to deal with the pain that they’re feeling. Your father has depression; your mother
hasn’t slept for nights it’s all her fault. She’s been crying and screaming
every night wishing for you to come back. The boy who would always
bother you dropped out of school. The boy that copied your
homework now cuts. But nobody cares about you,
aren’t I right? Your mother finally decides to go
clean out your room. But she can’t do it.
She’s locked herself in
your room for
two days to
try to
cleanup your clothes,
your things. But she can’t
she can’t say goodbye to you, not yet, not now.
Never. It’s your funeral. It’s a big one~ everybody comes.
No one knows what to say. The beautiful girl with the big smile is gone;
you’re somewhere else. No one knows what to say, they’re all still shocked. Everyone
cries, everyone misses you. They all wish you’d come back but you don’t, and you won’t. Still think nobody cares about you? Think again.Even if people don’t show it, they care about you, they love you. If you kill yourself today or any other day you won’t know just how much you meant to people. If you kill yourself today, it stops your pain, but it pains all the ones who know you for the rest of their life. Suicide is the easy way out - but it’s the wrong choice. Life is beautiful. Yes, it does have its ups and downs everyone has their bad days. Sometimes people go through tough times in
their lives like you’re probably going through now but bad times come
and go. You might not see the light at the end of the tunnel,
but it’s there. No matter how hard life gets, never give
up on yourself, or on your life. Take
a minute now, and think. If you
killed yourself ~how would the
people that love you
feel/go through?
Well I will
tell you:
tears, tears, and more tears. Devastation. Guilt. Pain. Broken. Regret. Miserable. 

I reload witty all the time

hoping

someone feels exactly the same way





 

                                                                                                                    I do ...










my quote.myformat.
 

Im out of excuses...

so why am I still here?