There was a girl in white, barefoot looking out into the horizon. She looked familiar with her long black hair and thin form. I was sure I had seen her somewhere before. Her hand reached out in front of her as if she was trying to not only watch the sunset but touch it as well. It was the first time I noticed where we were that made me hold my breath. It was beautiful. Wherever we were, it was utterly beautiful…An orange, purple tinged color covered the sky as if a huge canvas was painted before us. I looked back to the girl and it was so sudden that I didn’t even time to scream. I rushed to reach for the girl but I was too slow as she was already falling, but at the same time I was too fast to stop my momentum to prevent myself from falling with her. We were falling fast but it was nowhere near enough to prepare me for the thousands of knives that would slice through my body when I reached the bottom. My silent open mouthed scream welcomed in a rush of water and I couldn’t breath. I couldn’t swim. I was drowning. The fight for air was tiring. A battle that I knew I was meant to lose. The utter relief I felt, however, of letting go was indescribable. For the first time in years I truly felt at peace, finally recognizing the girls expression as she jumped off the edge of the cliff…it was content. She was the first that was honest with me and told me the truth. Fighting to live was so much harder, as it had been when I tried to survive for another gulp of air. It was exactly how she made me see that I was her…and she was me. Two people cut from the same cloth, the ones who know how it feels to give up and give into the temptation…to just fall…and sink…
Each day it was different. One day it was drowning, another was a car crash, or taking pills. However, the theme of each thought and dream were the same, of me dying. The often daily occurrence of these haunting thoughts since I was a young child began to fail to surprise me as the days passed.
Ever single day. Every goddamn single day they would creep into my thoughts at night when I’m trying to sleep, while I was taking a shower, or even when I was taking a ride on a subway train. It’s been so many years since I began having them that I’ve forgotten the day they began. I just knew that I was young, very young…maybe five or six years old.
That’s abnormal right? It didn’t matter what anyone thought because no one knew. They just assumed I was very emotional and cried often. How could I tell them that I felt like an anomaly?
As if my life goal was to die since I was born…the irony. Life is meant to be liven but since the day I took my first breath I’ve never liven because I wanted to die, I needed to. Often the reason escapes me. I tell myself its because I was bullied for more than half my life, for my parents non-stop fighting, or I’m depressed but honestly I don’t know anymore if I’m trying to convince them or myself. I just know I want these thoughts out! Out of my head!
I don’t want to die! I want to live! I want to get to know how amazing this “life” is that people talk about. I no longer want to think about dying every second I’m meant to live because I know I’ll have time to think when I do die one day and the days of living will be long gone.
So, please stop haunting me. The ghosts of my thoughts are finally beginning to kill me but I can’t…I just won’t give in. Even when you made my pick up a knife ten months ago with the intent of killing, even then I knew I wanted to live. Let me spend my days without you, my beloved haunting thoughts, because maybe one day you will succeed in what you’ve always wanted most…killing me…