Pain. Sharp and deep.

I never liked pain.

Or things that hurt me.

But here I was.

Laying in a tub half full, with a cold blade against my wrist.

How did I come to this conclusion?

I’ve seen enough.

Enough of what life has to offer me to leave early.

Enough of all the rape, torture, murder and war.

Enough of all the love, family, friends and warmth.

Nothing felt real.

Nothing felt like mine.

I was used, a thrown away toy discarded from people’s thoughts.

To my family I was a disappointment,

To my friends I was an annoyance,

I had no love and the only warmth that was left was that of the water I sat in soaking in my blood.

This was for me.

My first and final decision.

Pain. Sharp and deep.

I never liked pain.

But somehow this felt different.

Deeper, sharper.

Until finally, the chill stopped.