I Wanted to Kill Myself
And then, in the basketball game, I'd turned over the ball. It was my fault that we lost.
It was like that dumb turnover was the last straw.
So I wrote the note.
And I meant what I wrote. I had a plan: I'd use the car and drive into a bridge abutment. I knew how and I knew when. The words just spilled out of my heart onto the page like ugly little insects crawling from my pen.
"I'm worthless! I'm nothing! I'm no one! I'd be better off dead!"
They'll Be Sorry!
I sat there by myself for a long time, reading and re-reading the note, my heart thumping in my chest. This'll show'em. This'll show 'em all. Tomorrow, I'll do it. Tomorrow night. Then they'll be sorry.
I just wanted someone to pay for my rotten feelings. Maybe my coach, or the girl who dumped me, or the popular kids who could never make room for me in their inner circle. They would feel guilty, and that would be my revenge.
For just an instant, I thought, But if people don't really care about me, why would they be sorry that I'm dead?
But then, I heard another voice. Go on. Do it. There's no point to your life anyway.
When I'd finished the note, I tucked it in the bottom of my garbage can so no one would see it. My plan was to pull it out the next night and set it on my desk where my parents or the police or whoever could find it at just the right time. Then I tried to go to sleep.
But all I could think about were the painful moments I'd been through during the last few months. They cut into my heart like shards of broken glass. One moment after another. Stuff that would probably seem stupid to someone else, but it didn't seem stupid to me at the time. I couldn't get those thoughts out of my head. And I just couldn't shake my despair.
Is this all there is? I wondered. You just live for a little while, get lost in the shuffle, and then you die? Does any of it even matter? I wish there was a place where I could fit into this world. I just wish I mattered to someone.
I'd been going to church all my life, but the truth was, I hadn't yet found real hope or faith in Christ.
When I got up the next morning, I wasn't feeling quite as bad as the night before. Maybe because I'd made my decision. I just sat and played video games in the living room.
Then my mom walked into the room. Tears streaked her face.
She was holding the note.
At first I was furious. I yelled at her for invading my privacy and going through my stuff, but she said it just fell out when she was emptying the trash. Then my dad came in and we were all yelling and crying and angry and sad and hurting at the same time. And there was all this emotion erupting all over the room until finally my dad just told everyone to calm down, and that we needed to talk about it calmly. So we tried. It was really awkward and no one knew what to say, but just seeing how concerned my parents were made a difference.