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theanonymouswriter1 · 1 year ago

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Below the read more is a scene written from the perspective of the character committing suicide. It is graphic, though the total word count is only 344 words. Please use discretion when reading. Also, the character is unnamed here but is actually a character I've written a short story about, earlier, and plan to self-publish.

To anyone who knows my main blog, if it helps - I would never overdose. I fear the consequences too much, and have never been tempted to do so.

So yeah! BIG CONTENT WARNING FOR COMPLETED SUICIDE.

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She has a headache, like she has for so many days before.

It's not just the headache, of course. It's the depression. She used to have hope, but days pass and nothing helps. And she's so, so tired. If she could get a single damn night of rest, maybe she'd care more.

She gulps water and pills and only after she's done does she realise how many she took. But she's tired, and doesn't care. If she survives, she survives. If she doesn't, she won't have to worry about it.

They're sleeping pills, and she's already feeling sleepy, but the effects begin to hit pretty quickly. She's not sure if her hand is shaking or if her vision's going. Nothing is real. Nothing matters. Nothing.

She toys with the knife. Got it sharpened Saturday. Knows exactly how to use it. Never tried before, but she's imagined it that many times that it feels easy, natural, to ready the blade for slicing.

She wonders what the inside of her wrist will look like.

She cuts deeply, slowly, feeling the pain as something apart from her: pressure, not pain: and watches the blood fill the track of the knife. She's opened it up along the vein, not across, and it's spurting more than she thought a thin wrist like hers could. It feels like relief, like the pressure lifting. The cut is long and straight and reaches along half her forearm, done perfectly like she's never done anything in life. She's cut herself before; only surface cuts. But there was no hesitation this time.

She could call someone. Get blood all over her phone. She could still save herself. But first she wants a rest. Lie down for a bit, close her eyes, call someone in a minute. She might be able to sleep, right now. Just for a bit.

Her eyes flutter closed, vision blurring, and her hand loosens on the knife.

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Two days later her sister breaks down the door of her flat, and understands the scene in a single glance.

"Dear God, no!"

#tw suicide #writing #my writing #tw death #tw character death #note that medically in her backstory she is also taking aspirin #ultimately she dies of combination blood loss and overdose #tw overdose #uhhh any more trigger tags? ask to tag. I don't want to expose anyone to this by accident

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