You're Sitting In
Your Room
--door locked, 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 would care
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? Well you thought wrong.
It’s a Tuesday the following morning, and when
it’s 7:21, 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. When
there is 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 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; he calls 000 or 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 had 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? 8:34. 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 worry: 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, regreting 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 had 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 clean up your clothes and
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; 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 mean 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? Can’t think of anything? Well
I’ll tell you: tears, tears, and more tears.
Devastation. Guilt. Pain. Broken. Regret. Miserable. If
after reading this you still feel suicidal, there are
people that can help you. I’m here for you
whenever you need me, and I’ll be more than happy
to listen to you and try to help you feel better. There
are teachers, parents, grandparents, neighbors, adults,
councilors --they’re all there for you whenever
you need them.