I can not go on like this much longer. There are times when I dream of heaven and what it is like to die - to be in a place where everything is peaceful and everyone is happy; where no one blames you for things you did not do, or expects you to be someone you are not; where everyone gets along with each other.
School is not even real for me anymore. I go there, talk to the others, and show up for class. But it all seems like a fake to me - as if I'm moving through a dream. I do not listen in class anymore, I never study. I just go through the motions of living. My real life is spent here at home, just thinking about what will be, and how I can go on like this.
Everyone thinks I am so popular, that I have everything. If only they knew what's really going on inside of me. If only they knew how I just want to die sometimes - to just give it all up - take pills or something. I think a lot about ending it all, and not having to spend my days in this fog of just getting through life. The other children are jealous because they think we are rich. But none of it is worth anything to me anymore. I don't care that my folks spend money on me, that I have expensive clothes, a fancy house. It is all useless when my life is like this. I would give it all up in a minute if only I could have my life back the way it was before all this started.
When my parents are home and the fighting starts, I just want to disappear. They yell so loudly and with so much anger that I wish I could become small again, like a little baby, so I wouldn't understand the hateful words they scream at each other. I know they keep saying it has nothing to do with me, that it's not my fault, but sometimes I think that if I were a better student, a good daughter, none of this would be happening. I think its all my fault!
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Mum and Dad had their usual breakfast fight today, but I stayed in bed until they were done. I can't take listening to the way they put each other down all the time. I was so tired after being awake most of last night anyway.
As soon as they both left, I went through the medicine cabinet in their bathroom. There were a lot of tablets there, but I found one bottle that said "For Insomnia". I once read about a film star who killed herself by taking sleeping tablets. It probably does not hurt much that way. I still want to think about it, but every day I am more and more convinced that there is no other way out of this mess for me.
Nothing matters much to me anymore.
I arrived at school. The only reason I turned up was to say goodbye. I had loads of ‘friends’. But I only wanted to say goodbye to one. My true friend - Jenny. I hadn’t even told her about my parents! I wanted to tell someone, but I never could gather the courage to do so. I was a coward.
Jenny could sense there was something wrong. She came up to me at the end off a lesson, just before lunch time. She asked me if there was anything wrong. I just burst into tears. I could not stop my self from crying. I just needed to cry-and let someone else see me. It sounds really pathetic but I was feeling so much better already.
Jenny quickly pulled me into an empty classroom and told me to tell her what had happened to me. She just sat there and listened while the whole story poured out of my mouth. She didn't even say a word when I told her how my folks hate each other and how I can't live with them fighting all the time. I didn't plan on telling her that I've been thinking about taking pills, but in the end that came out too.
The whole time I was speaking, she just held my hand, and didn't say a word. It didn't even matter that I was kind of talking to myself. I didn't know what I expect Jenny to do about all this, why I even told her all this stuff. She's not some sort of fairy godmother who can make things all better. She’s just a girl in my class.
But just knowing that someone was listening to me really made a difference. Even if she doesn't have any answers, for the first time I felt like someone cared about what's going on in my life, like I wasn't all alone with it anymore.
When the pip’s went, I couldn't believe how much time had passed. I wasn't hungry even though we had both missed lunch. I felt bad for her though and said I was sorry, but she said it didn't matter, she wasn't hungry anyway.
Mostly what I felt then was really tired, kind of washed out, like I had just been through the washing machine, or wobbled off a roller coaster. But I also felt kind of relieved that I had finally talked to someone about my problems.
That terrible crushing feeling wasn't so bad anymore.
Before we finished, Jenny made me promise that I wouldn't take any pills - at least not without calling her first. I was so grateful for her help that I agreed. I guess it wouldn't be such a big deal to call her before I do it.
Then I wanted her to promise that she wouldn't repeat what I had told her. But she said she wanted my permission to tell someone who could help me. I got upset at that, because I don't think grownups can understand what a kid feels like in a case like this. But she said she would only talk to someone who was good at helping kids who are feeling down.
It worked for a while but then the word got around about me. Someone had over heard our conversation. My world was rapidly collapsing around me. So that is why I am here. Standing above the cliffs. Looking down below at the violent waves, crashing at the rocks below. I could be over and done with in a matter of seconds. Being here reminded me of my childhood, when I was about 5 years old. As a family my parents and me would come t the seaside and take walks along the beach. I have many happy memories of this place. I have decided…
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