Prologue
Date: August 31, 2008
This letter you are reading has no one person to be addressed and with that in mind this is a letter in regards to all those I have ever known. Finding this letter was no difficult task, I’ve made sure of that before my timely demise. The letter was purposely left in plain sight in my bedroom: leaving it behind on my bed next to the puddle of my own blood and hair covering it. I’ve written this letter far too many times and I still find it insufficient. But I suppose it will have to do. After all if you are reading this letter, then this has become a final draft. If you are reading this letter, then it means that I am dead.
This is a letter of goodbye.
The world we live in isn’t cruel nor is it particularly unfair. It is a mixture of both good and bad. I can remember some of the good. Distant blissful memories: when I close my eyes I can still savor and feel on my skin down to the bones. The concepts of life were not unknown in my mind. Everyone can’t get what they want because if they did then someone else wouldn’t. Nothing can be claimed without first giving up something. In this sense, the world works with a give and take notion; I am well aware of that. I don’t have anything to give and perhaps that is why I have not been able to acquire more from life. But I have become tired. I have become tired of opening my eyes every morning. I have become tired of opening my mouth to speak and eat. I have become tired of breathing. I don’t want to do these things anymore and everyday it has become harder to give myself reasons to.
Today I realized that I didn’t have any more reasons to hold me back.
But it isn’t that simple. I want you all to know the person I am, not the person you thought I was. I was never the little wall flower who couldn’t find a date to the school dances. I was never the girl who blushed at the sight of a love scene playing in a movie. I was never the girl who would have bent over backwards to make any of you happy or please you in any way. While in existence, I never bothered to try and prove any of these thoughts or assumptions wrong. It would have taken too much effort on my part to try and would have taken entirely too much effort to pretend to care. Those were emotions that I never had much of to show to others; it was hard enough to convince myself I had any to begin with. To say it bluntly, I was never a nice person and nor was I ever naïve or blind. There was nothing I was not aware of.
--
To My Mother, Sharon Hawking-Jenkins:
I know how you ripped those homemade cards I worked so hard on at school during the holidays. I spent so much time on them; I would even skip recess to get them perfect. Then I would see them balled up in the trash the following morning. There was no room, you said; they would only collect dust in a drawer. Instead you opted for filling the drawers and cabinets with melodramatic love letters from past lovers.
Don't misunderstand. I don't want your remorse or far-too-late apologizes. This letter is partly confession on my part.
Remember the time I came home drunk? I really wasn't. I pretend to be just so I could say the things I always wanted to, but was too afraid. But even then I couldn't, so I settled for throwing on the vinyl instead. Oh, remember the time I told you that one boyfriend - the one with the mole on his nose and peroxide blond hair - took the rent money? I lied; I took the money and spent it on all those cases of beer. The same cases of beer you found in your room, which tempted you to fall again. You fell so hard; I don't think I laughed so much before in my life. But that's not the best part. You always did wonder why you got fired the next day at work. Guilty. With a few clicks of a button, I managed to forward those oh-so-romantic emails to your boss. Oh, you know the ones I mean, the ones addressed to her husband of twenty years.
Sharon I want you to know I tried – I swear I did – but I couldn’t find a reason any more. I couldn’t find a reason to get myself out of bed every morning to open my eyes and much less find a reason for closing them at night. Perhaps I should have told you how I felt. Being my mother I can’t help but think you should have somehow already knew. But you were never the mother of the year you proclaimed yourself to be. The words you spoke and the actions you took told me as much.
I had long ago stopped being the pertinent part if your life: there is no need for me now that you have Cade. With him you have the chance to rebuild your image of a good mother; you have a shot at the perfect family life. I know I ruined many chances for you but I am not sorry, not in the slightest. I never chose you as my mother just like you never chose me as a daughter. The decision was out of our control and grasp, with that in mind it should go without saying that the resentment you held for me is understood. With Glen and Cade you have been given a restart at life; both of them can give you what I never could. I don’t hold any hate against Glen or baby Cade. In a way I’m thankful for them coming into your life; with them I was able to get away with much more things than I ever could. With them in your life, this choice became that much easier to take.
Everything now has become just the way you would have wished. Chances are you won’t cry or much less care about any of these words written on this paper. That’s fine with me; if this were the other way around I can honestly say I wouldn’t care either. I guess I am more like you than you would have ever thought.
--
To Levi Purks:
I know you are probably angry with me for not speaking to you about this sooner. Trust me when I tell you that I couldn’t. Someone like you would have never understood. It hurt so much Levi. Every day and every breath I took hurt so much I couldn’t bear it. Yes, I have been thinking about this for a long time and yes, this is something that has been on my mind before we even became friends. You have to understand, telling you would have made no difference in my decision. Telling you like this is a low and selfish move, I know it well. But I am so angry Lev: not at world as it is customary to believe when someone is taking their own life, but instead I am just angry with you. Don’t misinterpret. Being upset with you is not the reason I decided to do this. Being upset with you just means that I won’t be able to take fonder memories of you with me. How can I? Do you want to know what memories of you taint my mind? All I can think when your name leaves my lips is the touching of flesh and hidden caresses with despite pleas of undying love. Too bad it isn’t me I see you doing these things with.
I know Levi. I know what happened between you and her…with Eden. The kiss shared between the two of you in the midst of a seemingly empty hallway. But it wasn’t just that one thing. There was the kiss in the alley down the block from school and the kiss a few days ago in your bedroom. Imagine my surprise when I sneaked off in the middle of the night to see you and am greeted with the image of Eden lying in your bed. Both your arms were wrapped around her and your lips crushed against hers. I climbed down the balcony and ran home; shoving myself under the covers hoping to convince myself it was a nightmare. The look of guilt on both your faces the next day told me it was real.
I wanted to scream, ask how you could do this, and hit you while I cried and mumbled that I hate you. I couldn’t do any of that. It wouldn’t have been right nor would it have been fair for me to do that.
You’re in love with her.
Don’t try and deny it to yourself or to the body lying in the grave. I’ve been aware of your feelings for her for quite some time now. There is always a thin line between friends and lovers. The line between us was thin, but the line between Eden and you is nonexistent. She is the objection of your affections, but that is not the reason I am compelled to be angry with you. The anger I feel goes much deeper than that. It begins with the aching and crushing around heart and quells down to the acid feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Why choose me, if you wanted her?
I have dwelled on that question for countless nights while I cried myself to a dull sleep. Was I just second best? You couldn’t have her so you settled for me…but you should know by now how much she wants you too. I am not blind. Even when we are all together, there is a sort-of cosmic force between you two. It radiates off your skin, off your words, but most of all from your eyes. I have no hate towards you Levi; you will always be dear in my heart. Do a dead girl a last request, tell Eden how you feel. The both of you deserve each other and I mean that with no quarrel.
--
To Eden Wager:
The guilt you must be feeling must be intense. Feeling remorseful over what you did with Levi, but more importantly what you did to me. Even knowing what you did – and how many times you must have done it – does not change my opinion of you. Eden Wagner you are a good friend and person. You acted on your feelings just like I did when I took this decision. Don’t second guess the kisses you shared with Levi or the words you heard him say. I heard them too. Trust me when I tell you that he means them dearly. It must be awkward reading this; this former now dead girlfriend who was also you close friend. Levi never felt for me what he feels for you. Like you once told me, I can see it in his eyes.
Act on your heart and not with your mind. I did. Though I am not the best example of that wisdom, I can say I am honesty happy with the decision I have taken. Happier than I have ever felt and I only want for the two of you to have that happiness too.
--
To Derek Hampton:
I love you. That doesn’t say nearly enough as it does in a movie or on television. Those three words don’t even begin to describe the way you are engraved in my heart and mind. It pains me to do this. Not because of me – I do not fear death – but rather for you. Knowing you the way that I do, I know you will some how find a way to shift the blame for my decision on yourself. Believe me when I say this isn’t your fault. It is impossible for you to have ever guessed my decision. There were no warnings signs or giveaways in my eyes or face you could have foreseen and some how prevented me from this.
Don’t blame this on Agnes: though I am sure that is the first thing you’d do. She did not influence my decision nor did she give me any ideas with her death. Whether or not you believe my words, know this, I am happy now. For the longest time now Derek, I was in a very dark place. I was alone and afraid and just empty from the inside out. I know I smiled and laughed, but that was mask. Understand? You do it too. I know you think I haven’t noticed, but I do. You’re hiding behind an even thicker mask than I could ever create for myself. The regret I have is not being able to help you get rid of that mask, because you are a beautiful person Derek. I am sorry if I never told you that but it’s true.
Thinking about my life as I ran the razor blade through my skin there was only one thing I felt I regretted. It was the rejection I dealt to you a few nights ago. Know that I did not reject you because I lacked the same feelings you proclaimed for me. On the contrary, I think my feelings for you were too strong, much too strong than they should have been. If I had accepted you I don’t think I would have had the courage to go through with this. I would have feared hurting you, even if it meant for me to continuing hurting instead. Please understand that being with you would have not saved my life. The only thing that would have happened is that I would have stopped living for myself and instead would have just been living for the sake of you. What kind of life would that have been? So, you understand…in the end this was the best choice for me to take.
--
To Sheena Hampton:
While you must feel special to be included in a suicide letter it is important for you not to flatter yourself. There is only one reason you are in this letter and that is because it’s about time someone smack you in the face with reality. I remember from back in middle school when we first exchanged words. You were different back then. Yes, you were a much bigger girl – almost bordering obese – and while your exterior was completely opposite of what it is now, you are the same. The person behind those dull eyes of yours hasn’t changed at all. You, Sheena Hampton, are an ugly person. Inside and out; no matter how many ways you try to bend the facts or defend your actions. Without the need of opening your mouth, anyone can tell the type of person you are. The mere thought of you is repulsive; your actions and personality just aid that disgust. I have known you for a long time and so I feel my opinions are more than valid. You are nothing but a shell of a human being going around screwing every has-been. Soon enough your body will start to wear down, and then where are you going to be? In the gutter with every other blood-sucking leech. Chances are you will be offended and most likely will be in denial after reading my words. But you will always remember them, maybe not for what their actual worth, but because I am likely the only one who will ever tell you these things.
--
There are probably a lot more people I have no bothered to personally mention – sorry – you are just not worth the effort to write about. Everyone else in my life besides those mentioned were just passing faces that in all honesty I have no recollections of names to attach. But it is important for the rest of you to know that never did one of you pull something over on me. I saw you put those items in my locker and backpack. I heard you talk about me behind my back. I felt those paper planes hit me on the back of my head. Don’t for a second think any of you were sly or funny or even cunning.
The decision to end my life involves no second or third party.
For those who have read this – whether addressed to them or not – please try and understand. I am not a weak person who has merely given up on life. Rather I have speeded up the process of arriving to the afterlife. Everyone will die eventually: I have just punched my ticket in before the due date. None of you will probably have any idea how hard it was to go through with this. I mean this in the literal sense. This was not a spur of the moment idea thought up doing a bad day. I had more than enough time to think about this, especially doing the time of cutting through my wrists. All I had was that stupid pink lady daisy razor. I killed myself with a pink razor decorated with plastic daisies. It took hours just break through the skin. Maybe drinking poison would have been easier or perhaps hanging myself from the ceiling fan would have a wiser choice. Too late now. Heh. Death by fruity razor, hell of a way to go.
I guess this is the part I say goodbye and just for dramatic effect I’ll say, until never again.