Was it really meant to die? Why did people like death so much?

The same as I . . . why do I like the idea of death a lot?

If you wanted to die, go ahead and die . . . No one would really care, anyway.

When I felt like I wanted to die, I wouldn't eat for a whole day or two; yet when I wanted to be alive, I would eat with all my heart's extent . . . until my stomach would get hurt so much.

I would also secretly grab some blades and and locked myself in the bathroom, thinking of cutting myself. But I wouldn't cut myself, though . . . It would be a pain to leave scars that people would see. Then, I has no choice but sit down on the floor, the blade on my hand, staring at it as if it was one of the most beautiful human-creations existed.

Ah . . . There was also a time that I would like to intake a drink with dissolved hypertension medication, hypotension medication, and sleeping pills, because I thought that it was more comfortable to die that way. And when I was about to swallow the drugs up, I sensed thousands of eyes staring at me. Then I soon realised that my dolls were looking at me.

And I felt bad . . . I didn't want them to see me killing myself. Well, I had thought that it would be an unsightly image for my dolls to see me dying. We were family, though. I had no choice . . . Maybe, I could still bear it.

The second attempt was happened on a bright shiny day. I was on a rooftop of a high-rise building. If I would jump from here, it could lead me to an instant death. What was more amazing to that thought was that even for a mean time, I would experience what flying felt like. There was a mystic force that seduced to me jump and it really, really drawn me to do it.

And when I was about to jump, someone came to the rooftop and prevented me to do another suicide attempt. It would be a shame if someone saw me. I wanted to die alone.

Another attempt happened when we had a class retreat. The place we went was a beach near valleys. The place was very beautiful . . . so beautiful that it triggered my emotions. The scenic views was too peaceful for a dysfunctional person like me.

And even so it came, before the sun cracked on the horizon, I snuck out of our room and decided to perform my suicide. The setting was on a valley and I was climbing up to reach where the cliff was located.

I had a sad music and kind of epic-ish music on my earphones while walking. It could help me to mood myself up. The whole surrounding was gloomy as the sky covered with grey clouds, very misty but it smelled life—the breeze that you could inhale during daytime after a rainy night.

I was just walking . . . walking, until I reached a cliff. Rocky cliff that could lead into an instant death.

I had to jump . . . And yet I couldn't. I realised that this place was too pure and heavenly and I didn't want to taint it with my disgusting and undesirable quality of my blood.

Rejected by my own thoughts, I went back to our lounge.

I kept on saying that I wanted to die, but really . . . It really, really got me so scared. Attempting a suicide had never been that easy. It took a lot of bravery and courage to do it.

I was scared all the time; I felt weak every single time . . . What if I would be braver? What if I would be stronger? Then I should be dead right now.

I wouldn't say that I am insane, for I hadn't went to a mental hospital or visited a psychiatrist or something.

All that was left within me was hatred. I wished I could just die. I wished someone will kill me. I wished I would just disappear. I wanted to die. Please don't let me live. I wished I was never born.

One day, when I went back to the house, I found my loving parents fighting. I didn't have any idea how did they start quarrelling or what was the source of their argument.

"There's nothing left?!" My father, who was still on his corporate suit, shouted angrily.

My father was always calm, he rarely got angry. But once an argument sparked and lit up into flames, I could be sure that his outrage would be something fearful.

I stepped deeper inside of our house and saw my mother on the corner, crying and all in weak state.

How pitiful . . . they were both pity. Oh, that included me as well, being all trapped in this trap called life.

"Don't you say you have nothing left, you bitch!" If I could describe his anger, then there would be a vein appearing on his temples. "I have given you so much money, and now, you're asking again?!"

"Don't speak as if you have provided me enough!" My mother interjected. "The dime you are giving me is nothing compared to what you're giving to your mistress!"

I made face upon hearing it. I almost laughed in disgust, even rolled my eyes. How loathsome.

"You have the guts to tell that to me, huh?" My father was completely losing his mental state of condition. "Blame yourself for being unemployed!"

"Isn't the man's responsibility to support his wife?" spat my mother.

"Why won't you tell that your other man?" my father provoked. "You can't, can you? That's your fault for finding someone who got no penny."

"It is actually your fault! Only if you had time for us, this won't be happening!"

"I'm working hard for this family! I never knew you are just impatient little slut!"

I pursed my lips. They should get an annulment.

But both sides had a point. Though my mom's cries became harder. I wouldn't blame her. She was a beggar to love and affection, thus she looked for it, yet sadly, she was just unfortunate with her wrong choices.

I didn't know what the 'love' meant. It was just an illusion. Their minds were just playing on them. But who was I to tell? I never understood how emotions worked.

And before their dispute got really heated, I decided to make passed of them.

"All right, all right!" I meddled in an ecstatic tone, walking between the spaces they put. "The unwanted child is coming through~!"

"Ellianna!" father snarled at me. "Stop being so disrespectful!"

"Okay, okay." I boringly replied, whistling in process. I still didn't care, though.

"You're not going to say anything, Ellianna?" Mother demanded, surprised how complacent I was. "I don't remember giving birth to someone as useless as you! I should have killed you when I had the chance!"

I stopped on my tracks, hearing the words she freed out of the gap between her lips. I chuckled to the thought it gave me.

"Gave birth to me?" I scoffed, pivoting my foot to face them, "You should have done it . . . Killing me, I mean . . . Because I'd be grateful if you did~!" and smiled how foolish people did. "I never wanted to live, anyway."

Then I left. It was my first time speaking my true emotions to them. It actually felt good. I had just discovered that being honest could bring me closer to being alive. And my honesty didn't ease the disagreement swirling around this place.

My honesty could bring much chaos and disunity to this family.

This life . . . is something I could never love.

How could I love my life, though? Living this life felt like I am burdened with ten heavy misfortunes. And I had to carry those burdens for the rest of my existence.

What a joke. What a failure it had became.

My life is really miserable, huh? Could I die now? But I couldn't end my life . . . Thanks to my cowardice, and I am still alive.

I hated this life. I loathed myself. I despised this world. I abhorred these humans. I just wanted to die.

Please don't let me live. Please let me die. I don't want to continue living. I want to die. Please let me die. Please let me die.

• — ◽◻◽ — •

🤹🏼‍♀️ HandTheirEnd