Jump to content
    D.K. Daniels
  • Author
  • 3,218 Words
  • 11,720 Views
  • 13 Comments
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Speedbumps (Revised) - 1. Full Story (Revised)

p style="text-align:center;">


I have written many adventure, drama and romance books with LGBTQI+ characters. Visit my website to browse my full bibliography. You can also sign up for my mailing list to ensure you don't miss any fun future updates. Be sure to subscribe, I give away free stuff, limited printed editions of my novels and more.

   

My Website:

www.dk-daniels.com

   

My social media and newest books.

   

Social & Newest Reads:

https://linktr.ee/dkdaniels

 

Speed Bumps

D.K. Daniels

 

Never alone, I often wonder. More like forever alone. Sitting at the kitchen table in direct sunlight, the orange alpenglow flooded through the blinds. The PVC tablecloth is still messy from our rush earlier in the morning to get out the door to school. Carson never learns how to keep sugar on his cereal. If anything, that boy manages to get more of the topping on the tabletop. There's nothing like a sunny Wednesday afternoon to kill yourself, I reflected. Contemplating my life and how utterly dull and tedious the past months have become, I can now see why. An outcast; a reject to everyone. I'd rather not hear more excuses of why, or how I shouldn't have a place in the world. What I should do in order to keep them quiet. I've already witnessed the cruel offerings long enough. The worst part is I have nobody to tell.

Tell Dad, some might say… he'd say, "buck up and take it."

Only I'm not sure if what I got myself into is normal bullying. Though, how is it I can describe it like that. Common bullying.

Mom is too preoccupied with her role in the hospital. She's a doctor now. Whenever she arrives home, my brother and I get a zombied mother. One who is just too tired to socialize, talk… do much of anything. You see her coming in, then typically Mom will disappear to her office, rarely coming out of the room. Not even for dinner. On the odd occasion, if she does cook us dinner, rather than ordering takeout, those are the times I cherish. Dad runs his own garage a couple of blocks from here. Cars have always been that man's life; something is for sure, it's not going to be mine. Possibly Carson will pick up the trade long after I am gone. I love that goofball more than anything. It's just I can't pretend anymore that everything is normal when it ain't.

Something changed for me, I don't know what, and I have no clue as to how long ago. Only, after all the bullying and shit in my life, it feels like I am numb. At one point in my life, I was able to cry listening to sad music because it would have helped me oddly. Who can believe listening to depressing music would drag you down further. Well, some will say: just it can help. I'll never understand how the process worked; all I know is when I went in one side, miserable and depressed, I came back out the other feeling better, relieved I cried.

Only these days, I am lucky if I am able to feel a sense of anything. I don't know what it is; all I can say is that I can feel nothing literally. Well, that is a lie, I can still experience the let-down I am causing. I know deep down they'll all be better off without a burden holding them back. Comprehending that what I am about to do is going to change everything, and this appears to be gratifying. I'll never have to live another moment thinking who I will piss off today. Who will be waiting for me around the next corner to harass, belittle, push me around. I'll never have to see them again. Never have to notice that blond-headed kid either. Again, I won't see Carson believing I am the awesome big brother he thinks I am. Nothing will never be okay. I've tried to fix myself, to cure me of the oppressiveness. Still, it holds on, and I am slowly running out of patience and sanity. Actually, I have run out of patience.

Peering down at the tabletop, and giving a sniffle. Four items rest in front of me, each with symbolic meaning to what I am about to do. A pen, the very same I just used to write my final goodbye. The truth of the matter is I am not sorry; as I said, everything seems like a swoosh.

All conventions of my life are gone. If I do notice, it doesn’t have the same value it once have had when I knew what I had. Next, to the pen, a sheet of paper layered with a couple of paragraphs written by myself. I figure you can call this your suicide letter as they always say in the movies. The note outlines the reason why I am offing myself. More or less the passage reads,

"Dear Mom, Dad, and Carson.

I want to say I am really sorry for what I've done. I didn't mean for it to happen. I tried to fix it, but the whole situation, it got worse. It spiralled out of control. They said if I went to anybody they'd leak what I did to everyone in school if I didn't comply with what they wanted me to do. Mom, they took a video of me jerking off in the school toilet. I am sorry, I don't know what to do other than this. I want to make it end. I didn't do what they wanted me to do today. So, I have been anxious all day waiting for them to put the video of me in the bathroom doing what I did, out for the world to see. I didn't even know they recorded me until they reached out to me and told me. At first, they didn't ask for anything. All I knew was that they were a group of boys. A couple of days went by, and I heard nothing from them; then all of sudden one guy came to me and told me he wanted me to steal stuff.

The boy said it was the decision of the group. If I didn't do what they demanded, they'd put out the video. I wasn't sure if to believe him at first; I mean I blew him off, and that made him angry. I turned walking away, but darted over showing me the screen of his phone. That's when I believed he had a video of me. I asked, “what do you want?” He just said: steal. When I asked what it is he wanted me to take, that's when he gave me a small list worth of items to shoplift.

After school that day, I went to Walmart with the boy. The guy waited outside, and I went in to do what I shoplifting. I stood looking at PS4 games for a long time. He wanted me to steal a video game. I got this sickly feeling in my stomach, and I ran straight for the toilet and got sick. Why did this happen to me? Mom, did I deserve to have this happen to me? I wish I could take it back, but I'll know the world will see. After I rinsed out my mouth, I went back to the shelf, looked both ways and lifted the plastic case that surrounded the game. I gave it a wiggle, and the case rattled inside. I knew I had to get it out of the container somehow. So, I purposely dropped it hoping it would crack. It was so loud I almost fainted with the notion of getting caught. When I saw I'd gotten away with dropping it, I stomped on the case as hard as I could and turned with my back to the camera. I plucked up the box, messed around with the loose case and took the disc of the game out, before putting the case back on the shelf. I couldn't do any more than that, so I panicked and left the store. I don't know how I wasn't caught. I thought I would have. I don't see how I could have explained why I was doing this to a security guard.

When I got outside, the boy seemed pleased I did something he required. Only, he said since I didn't acquire the other content my official warning was gone for good. If I fucked up once more, I was going to be exposed. So, I said okay. Then the funny thing is I went home that evening. I half expected to have a cop knock at our door. Do you remember that day back in November when I got shaky, and you kept asking me if everything is okay while you cooked dinner? Well, that was the reason; I stole the video game for that guy. All afternoon I was paranoid that a cop would come to our house.

For the entire night, I kept my eyes on the front door. Every time the house phone rang, or the doorbell ding-donged, I convinced myself a little more that the police would be here to arrest me. Oddly nobody came to retrieve me, not the police, not the guy who was harassing me. Instead, an entire week went by before I heard anything back from the blackmailers. This time around, they wanted me to send images or videos. If they didn't receive anything by midnight, they'd send the video to whatever friends I have. Including the entire student body of my school. The last thing I wanted was Carson opening his school email and seeing footage of me. I spent hours thinking it over in my head if I should do it; I know I shouldn't have. I was giving them more material, but I gave them more. I didn't know what to do, I was so freaked out. I should have come to you for help, but I am past that stage now.

What followed was a visit to school one morning when I sat down at my desk in the homeroom, a week later. In the smallest words possible, I became their errand boy. Did whatever shit they wanted me to do. Reasonably I was always tired because they gave me their homework to do every day of the week. All three of them. I'm sorry I didn't leave the house when you wanted to walk the dog, or go for a stroll as a family. I couldn't. I’m always tired, buried under a mountain of homework. Things died down for Christmas, but they occasionally sent me taunts telling me to keep in line. I think around the end of January was the time they wanted me to check in with them daily. I have no idea why they were so keen on knowing what I was doing, but I was told to and if I didn't, then you know… so I did as they said. The more time went on, the more mundane the tasks got. One day out of the blue, the same kid who accompanied me to the Walmart; the blond one asked to kiss me. I thought it was gross. I didn't want him anywhere near me. I'm not gay… I didn't want to but… I kissed him. I thought that would satisfy his amusement. Then Mom… he asked… he said that I should let him fuck me. So, I drew the line…for the first time and said no. That was today.

My tormentor has no limits, he is the type of guy who'd send the video out just to be cruel. I believe he will when he wants to. I'm ashamed and so embarrassed. I am sorry for being a screw-up. I didn't mean for all this to happen. I really am sorry. I don't want to be here when everything comes out. The guy did it. As I write this I can say he posted the video. Don't blame yourself, it's not your fault. It's mine. I did this, and I can't fix it. I tried, I really did Mom. Don't be mad at me, please don't. I've loved every moment I spent with you guys. Thanks for giving me an awesome little brother. I'm sorry, but I love you.

Logan."

Turning my attention from my letter, I glanced at a single bullet set upright on the surface. I wipe my eyes since they'd grown soggy by the continuous flow of slickered tears. Following along my eyes roamed over Dad's Rossi R461 revolver. Swiping up the single bullet that will end it all, I crank open the pistol and load the cartridge into the slot. I figure this is the best time to do it. Nobody will be home for quite some time. Carson has Hockey practice. It's a Wednesday for Mom at the hospital, and Dad will be opened a little later to play catch up from a new backlog of customers.

Pushing away from the table, I return the chair to its original position, unlock the back door and head out down the yard. The moment Buster notices me, he barks within his confined chain-link enclosure. I remove a treat I got from the cupboard, and passing it through the hole in the fence he takes in gently, but drops it. He looks at me; sensing something is off. Dogs are smart, and it’s the first time Buster has disregarded food. Paying no attention to our beloved pet, I walk down toward the lovely old oak tree at the end of the yard. Fresh spring leaves are beginning to bloom.

Slowing as I reach the tree, I hold the gun by the grip. Pulling one of the iron chairs from the alfresco seating arrangement. I face it away from the house toward the fence. Plopping down, I don’t have a clue as to what I need to do. I figure, I put the gun in my mouth and squeeze the trigger.

Though will that work… it always works in the movies. Will my head blow off at the back? I sit a while, thinking of nothing in general. Just things. Looking at the yard fence, I wipe my face clean, bracing myself. Get it over, I figured. Raising the firearm to my head, I place the cold nozzle of the gun to my temple. I'd kill myself quicker here, right. My heart rate immediately takes off a million miles a minute, and my tears amplify dramatically. I taste the salted tears coming down my face, now dripping from my chin.

Nothing matters anymore. A moment of courage spews into me, and I rattle with a sob as I pull back the hammer. My thumb does it subconsciously. I close my eyes, then squeeze, but I don’t hear anything. Nothing happens. Instead, I open my eyes, and everything is still the same. The gun hadn't gone off. I look at it sceptically. Then I remember I didn't put the bullet in the top cylinder. Peeking in between the openings of the chamber I see the round now resting on the bull’s eye. It’s all or nothing now. If I mean to kill myself, this is the now. After I do this, there is no turning back. Sadly, a change of heart hasn’t happened.

Again, lifting the gun to my head for the second time, I shut my eyes, draw in a deep breath.

Bang…

A crash came, followed with, "No Logan," a voice screams.

Cracking my eyes open, I peer around in the chair to find Carson slowly approaching me. The crash had been the backdoor. For a single second, I believed all my problems were solved with one final bang. Instead, it’s my brother. The last person on earth I ever wanted to see me do this.

"Don't, please don't," he balled.

A sudden state of shock takes hold of me. I feel my heart sink a little and, in a way, I feel guilty. Lowering the gun as not to frighten him, I let my shoulders drop. Well, there goes my plan. How can I leave him like this? Why is he home early? Does he know?

"Why are you home?" I ask bitterly.

"I saw… Em… I… I came home because… Practice... Cancelled. I saw the note," he murmured. Fresh tears were streaming down his soft features.

"You saw it?" I enquired.

Neither of us look at each, but I hear him say, "yes."

The two of us don’t say anything, just clandestinely looking at each other. Then eventually, Carson glanced to his left.

"Can... Can you throw the gun over there.”?

In the last couple of seconds, my twelve-year-old brother has gained some ground. Something I hadn't foreseen. Doing as I’m told, I toss the gun over at the bushes, and it makes a dull thud hitting the grass.

"I'm fucked…" I murmured.

Pressing my hands against my eyes, I force out the light by pushing my palms into my eye sockets. The jelly of my eyeballs squished into the back of my head. Wetness trickles and leaks everywhere. Down my neck, my cheeks, hands; everywhere.

Then that's when I feel it: his small arms encircling me. Holding me tight in an embrace. He doesn’t say much; Carson never does with me. I suppose the two of us always see eye to eye on certain things. This is no other. I lift the veil covering my eyes and let my hands rest on his shoulders. I bow my head; my chin meets with his crown. I feel oddly better hugging my little brother. The ruffle of messy hair atop his head is comforting.

Giving a sniffle, followed with a rattle, I hear him murmur into the confines of my chest," can we go inside and wait for Mom and Dad to get home?”

Unsure how to answer that question, in particular, I reckon my look says all I need to state at the moment. Navigating back inside, I hold my little brother by the shoulder, and he, by my waist. I completely forget about the revolver. That is until I get back to the kitchen, and two of us sit down at the table.

Carson opens the refrigerator and takes out two cans of Coke Cola. My brother slides a can across the table, then plonks down opposite to me. The two of us open our drinks simultaneously and linger before taking a sip. Neither of us talk, just sip on the Cola. When the can runs out, we remain quiet. Staring directly across at each other. Somehow his presence is welcoming. I get the impression that he doesn’t want to leave me, and I am grateful for that. I can’t understand why he doesn’t think I am not sick after the note. Then I realize as I sit here for an hour waiting for my parents to come home, that dying at fifteen, is too young to die at all. Carson and I have stopped crying. Our eyes are raw from the grief. As I wonder what Mom and Dad are going to say, I can’t help but contemplate… Can there really be life after this? Could this be a speed bump? Speed bumps can be navigated. Perhaps this is a speed bump. Just maybe there will be a tomorrow after all.

Then an amplified key turns in the barrel of the front door, it opens.

Mom calls out, "boys... you home?"

I glance from the kitchen door to Carson and nod; welling up. I choose to fight... and to not give up. After all, speed bumps can be navigated.

 

The End

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this tale. Drop me an email to let me know via my reader contact email: danny2017writing@outlook.com. You can help me by rating this story via Goodreads. Link below. The story is part of a collection called We Are Here. Doing this enables my stories to reach a larger audience and improves my rankings. Don’t forget also to visit my website and sign up for my mailing list. You can also view some of my older works by clicking on my pen name via the authors tab.

 

My Website:

www.dk-daniels.com

 

Follow me on social media, and peruse my newest books.

 

Social & Newest Reads:

https://linktr.ee/dkdaniels

Copyright © 2018 D.K. Daniels; All Rights Reserved.
  • Like 13
  • Love 5
  • Sad 1
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
You are not currently following this author. Be sure to follow to keep up to date with new stories they post.

Recommended Comments

Chapter Comments

Extremely powerful and I hated it. You got down on paper all the feelings that go along with being bullied. As a teacher there is nothing that makes me more angry than to see or hear another student try to lord over another student.  I know I can get myself in serious trouble if I get physical with a bully but I have to summon up all my strength to not do something physical.  I used the word hate, I am not a hateful person but bullying can drag out of the depths of my inner being hate.  I am so glad you had the little brother get home in time.  In reading there is a physical limit as to just how fast a person can read, and my eyes and brain were there I had to know he turned out alive.  If he hadn’t I might be saying vulgar things right now. Not really sure why you wrote the piece.  The unfortunate fact is, the exact kind of stuff you have in this story happens. Why are we humans so fucked up that we treat other human beings in any other way than love?  Thanks for bringing Carson home and saving his brother.  Now let the love heal. 

  • Like 2
  • Love 3
Link to comment

To me, this story is about hope even when there seems no hope. :hug:

 

Logan had Carson to pull him back from the brink, but I'm sad to think that not every kid in Logan's position has a Carson. :,(

  • Love 4
Link to comment

I've been in deep depression -- the worst part about it isn't the sadness, it's the soul-crushing apathy. Think you captured that well in this story with his talking about not being able to feel any more.

  • Love 2
Link to comment
11 hours ago, Crazyd1965 said:

Wow dramatic first chapter. Loved it anxiously awaiting the next chapter.

Thank you so much for your comment. That’s me though; I do love me so drama lol. Initially I wrote this as a short; perhaps in the future it can be something I’ll write as a whole story when I find the time. I have a couple of other stories on here to fill the void; and larger novel works on the way. I’m delighted that you were able to feel the adrenaline rush in the story toward the end.

  • Like 1
Link to comment
10 hours ago, OzLoGo said:

Extremely powerful and I hated it. You got down on paper all the feelings that go along with being bullied. As a teacher there is nothing that makes me more angry than to see or hear another student try to lord over another student.  I know I can get myself in serious trouble if I get physical with a bully but I have to summon up all my strength to not do something physical.  I used the word hate, I am not a hateful person but bullying can drag out of the depths of my inner being hate.  I am so glad you had the little brother get home in time.  In reading there is a physical limit as to just how fast a person can read, and my eyes and brain were there I had to know he turned out alive.  If he hadn’t I might be saying vulgar things right now. Not really sure why you wrote the piece.  The unfortunate fact is, the exact kind of stuff you have in this story happens. Why are we humans so fucked up that we treat other human beings in any other way than love?  Thanks for bringing Carson home and saving his brother.  Now let the love heal. 

Your insight is always welcome and respected. Oddly enough I was wondering the other day while listing to a talk show host on the radio about teachers pay during summer; I had found myself considering teaching English lol. No inkling as to what brought me their but oh well. However, I think I can imagine the frustration you may hold as a teacher. Parents and students often forget teachers are humans too. They have lovers, children and hobbies too. They get upset when people don’t listen in class or take things to heart if something is offendful. Sadly in life that is the way. Personally I am not a violent person. I don’t think under the right circumstances other than self defense, that I’d hit another being. Although I guess I can relate to frustration placed in your shoulders when you see something like this happen. If it where my kid; I don’t think I’d be so humble about the situation.

 

I love the way you described wanting to know more. That you eyes could not physically keep up the the text. It’s a little like me when I’m writing. Fingers can’t keep up with the brain.or if I dictate the words take longer to form in the brain. I’m delighted that if the conclusion had been different you would have been... ehm.. pissed lol.

 

as to why I wrote it; I’ll never know. I was sitting watching television at eleven o clock at night and suddenly an idea formed. I knew right away it was going to be a short, so I decided to write it. It’s not everyday inspiration comes. If I was waiting for it, I’ll see be working on my first book. As I started to write I pieced together that I had a boy who wanted to die; and at the last minute his brother comes home early. I never really state it publically. But Carson saw the video, that is why he came home early from practice.

 

humans are the worse type of bread there is us; yet some how deep beneath we are quite compassionate when the right change of heart comes along. Some people make mistakes, which is normal. Though yes sadly we have a select few love the thill and game of upsetting others. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do the suicide scene; then I got to the point when I said bang and left it in limbo... I like that so it was time for Carson to come in lol.

  • Like 1
Link to comment
6 hours ago, travlbug said:

To me, this story is about hope even when there seems no hope. :hug:

 

Logan had Carson to pull him back from the brink, but I'm sad to think that not every kid in Logan's position has a Carson. :,(

Hope is all we have, if we have nothing to latch onto things can seem lost. In theoretical terms Carson was the light at the end of tunnel type deal. You often hear of kids doing such things. I can’t say I have been very different; I have been their at that teadious moment. Not with a gun but with an other alternative. I guess in long run I wanted to show the orginality of the moment with out hiding anything. I message I wanted to convey is that you will hurt someone else by doing what your doing. Asking for help is not as hard as it may orginally seems if you learn to acccept there is always a way out.

 

sadky though yes; not every kid had a Carson. I believe your statement is more haunting in that regard because of how true. If Carson arrived later or didn’t read the letter on the table, he might had missed it. Hopefully though kids or adults who are in this mindset see that their is land on the horizon. 

 

Thanks for your comment, it made my day. :)

  • Like 1
  • Love 1
Link to comment
6 hours ago, Fae Briona said:

I've been in deep depression -- the worst part about it isn't the sadness, it's the soul-crushing apathy. Think you captured that well in this story with his talking about not being able to feel any more.

Sorry to hear, I hope everything is better for you know. I too have been their; it’s not place to be for anyone; especially child. At 15 it is a sin to die so young. I wish I was so liberal and constructive about 6 years ago when I too was that age. Thankfully I saw the light. I often felt as if there was just This heaviness that I lugged around everywhere. The sensation was almost like floating but nothing ever seemed to have a desired effect when I wanted it to. 

 

Thanks for yiur comment, it means a lot :)

  • Like 1
Link to comment
On 9/7/2018 at 3:08 AM, D.K. Daniels said:

Sorry to hear, I hope everything is better for you know. I too have been their; it’s not place to be for anyone; especially child. At 15 it is a sin to die so young. I wish I was so liberal and constructive about 6 years ago when I too was that age. Thankfully I saw the light. I often felt as if there was just This heaviness that I lugged around everywhere. The sensation was almost like floating but nothing ever seemed to have a desired effect when I wanted it to. 

 

Thanks for yiur comment, it means a lot :)

For the most part, things are better.  Having a rough patch now, but trying to get through it (and have been talking about it some on my blog).  I know, eventually, I'll see the other side.

I'm glad you found your light - may it keep burning brightly.

  • Love 2
Link to comment
16 hours ago, Fae Briona said:

For the most part, things are better.  Having a rough patch now, but trying to get through it (and have been talking about it some on my blog).  I know, eventually, I'll see the other side.

I'm glad you found your light - may it keep burning brightly.

Thank you, and I wish the same for you. Happy New Year :)

  • Like 1
Link to comment

Danny, This is a very touching story. As someone who lost a dear friend to suicide many years ago, I never feel safe from learning about yet another tragic death due to sadness, despair, and heartache. Sometimes we see the signs and we try to help and yet, sometimes, it takes more, and then time runs out, and we simply ask, why? 

My friend was bullied by his own DAD from age 10ish all the way through high school. He ended his life short of his 21st birthday.   In many ways I think that bullying is the #1 cause of young people's suicidal tendencies. Everyone has to address the implications of bullying, everyone.

This story may be fictional, however, there is no reason why this exact setting cant happen time and time again. The only way to stop it is to realize,  the person who wants to die will die, if someone doesn't speak up on his or her behalf. THere are always wigns that a person is at the very edge of life. We have to watych closely for those signs.

In this story, it took a 12 year old little brother who saw the signs, and read the note his big brother had written. Carson's love for his big brother Logan, saved Logan's life.

Sorry for the rant Danny. Its a powerful story and a more powerful message.

-Coach

  • Sad 2
Link to comment
6 hours ago, Coach said:

Danny, This is a very touching story. As someone who lost a dear friend to suicide many years ago, I never feel safe from learning about yet another tragic death due to sadness, despair, and heartache. Sometimes we see the signs and we try to help and yet, sometimes, it takes more, and then time runs out, and we simply ask, why? 

My friend was bullied by his own DAD from age 10ish all the way through high school. He ended his life short of his 21st birthday.   In many ways I think that bullying is the #1 cause of young people's suicidal tendencies. Everyone has to address the implications of bullying, everyone.

This story may be fictional, however, there is no reason why this exact setting cant happen time and time again. The only way to stop it is to realize,  the person who wants to die will die, if someone doesn't speak up on his or her behalf. THere are always wigns that a person is at the very edge of life. We have to watych closely for those signs.

In this story, it took a 12 year old little brother who saw the signs, and read the note his big brother had written. Carson's love for his big brother Logan, saved Logan's life.

Sorry for the rant Danny. Its a powerful story and a more powerful message.

-Coach

I am sorry to hear about friend, sadly we have all lost someone to suicide. It has its horrible hooks in all aspects of people lives; I have gone through plenty of suicide watch and it's not easy, even been a victim of depression myself. The best thing anyone can do is find the parts of humanity to stick around for. Sure enough, I would have missed dogs, and music and omg, traveling... my family. Sometimes when you get into that mindset it is hard to get out of it, and I guess I am lucky one to have done so. I agree bullying is a big cause of depression amongst teenagers, but so in peer pressure in the work place. Ironically, if I hadn't been severely bullied when I was younger, I don't think I'd be the same person as I am today. I ended finding the beauty in the most molecule things. There is not truer words that you say when you want to die, you will, if nobody tries to intervene. Often these signs are missed since life gets busy. I guess it is even harder to deal with when it comes directly from a parent. Though as I have learned, a random stranger or familiar face often turns up when you are the lowest, sometimes all you have to do is reach out. Except, this is incredibly hard for someone who has suicidal thoughts to do. I turned all my negative and sad thoughts into something resourceful and I'd encourage anybody who ever is feeling this way to turn to art, it really does help the soul. Music, Art, Creative Writing, Photography - combine it with travel and you have the makings of a new adventure. Thanks for your comment; I hope you are okay. The only thing we can do is be there for those who are feeling down, through thick or thin :)

  • Like 2
Link to comment

Its so easy to miss the signs sometimes. In just one week before my friend Bryan died, I can remember at least 5 times if only I had done this, or that, he would still be here. But "what-Ifs" in the past will only drive a person insane. Sometimes I am not sure if I am OK or not, lol. But at my age that is an all too frequent happening.

We have to advocate against bullying and advocate to take a strong stand against suicide. It is always down to educators, of all ages. People dont have to feel alone or hopeless. Just one random act of kindness could change the world, or change one person's chosen path to die.

Anyway, again thanks for who you are and what you give others through your stories. They are quite good. It takes a special quality of a writer to reach into the heart of those who may feel different and isolated when they are indeed not different at all. They are only very special souls who have more love in their heart than a lot of others who wish to look down and ignore that special quality.

I will get off my soap box.!

  • Love 2
Link to comment
View Guidelines

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
  • Newsletter

    Sign Up and get an occasional Newsletter.  Fill out your profile with favorite genres and say yes to genre news to get the monthly update for your favorite genres.

    Sign Up
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

Our Privacy Policy can be found here: Privacy Policy. We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue..