It’s 4:30 pm. 5th of November. It’s my birthday. Currently, I’m standing in front of my shattered mirror with the shape of my knuckles implanted on it. My right knuckle is filled with blood and tears rushing down my face asking myself, “why am I still alive?” My name is Denver Robinson. I’m 18 years old and it’s my first year of university. You’re probably wondering as to why I’m crying in front of my mirror. You see I haven’t had the easiest life. Looking at my right arm it probably reflects the sort of pain and trauma I’ve had engraved in my life. It’s nothing but a plethora of cuts that I’ve done to myself just to portray what mental challenges I’ve been through. I had a very dysfunctional relationship with my father. Where we would fight and argue all day and he would get physical with me. Forcing me into thoughts wishing I could just run away and just escape his unending waves of terror. But I couldn’t. I loved my mother. And she loved me. We loved each other unconditionally. I would do anything for my mother. She would always protect me from my father’s onslaught of physicality, which would tear her apart physically and mentally. But she would always do what she can just to make sure I had food on my plate, clothes that would warm me up, and a bed with a blanket that would come crucial on those nights where it was as cold as Alaska.
Unfortunately, when I was 12, my mother died. She was beaten to death at the hands of my very own father. I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was stand there in silence whilst the screams of my mother would be on full display until her dying breath. I felt so weak. That her only son couldn’t do anything to save her. What was I living for? Why didn’t I move? My father, on the other hand, isn’t in my life anymore. I don’t know where he is since I had to live with my next-door neighbour since my mother’s death. Ever since my mother’s death, I’ve felt no hope or positivity in my life anymore because my mind is constantly filled with darkness, sadness, loneliness, and misery. The cries of my mother repeatedly play in my mind whenever I close my eyes.
I’ve tried committing suicide multiple times. Notably, the time where I tried acid. It was a horrible moment. But I felt at peace knowing that my pain could finally cease and that I can move on to the next life. But I survived and I was angry. My mother’s spiritual embodiment is the only reason why I’ve been able to keep going. I look at my arm and I remember the first cut that I did to myself. The same night where I threw my furniture and smashed the windows and glasses because of the haunting image of my mother’s face displayed into my mind. My mother died on my birthday. How ironic is that? The day where it’s meant to be your “special day” is now remembered as the day your loved one died. Multiple times I would tell myself that “my life is depressing, it’s a sad story, I have no reason to carry on.” But I remain in the dark despite me being happy at times.
It wasn’t all bad though. I’ve had some good moments in my life. I remember when I was 8. I had a friend, Martin Lawrence. We would constantly play trading card games like Match Attack or Yu-Gi-Oh. Of course, at the time, we watched so many animated tv shows and just talked about them for hours, whilst having dreams that we could be like them one day. Martin was the first friend I made. He would always be there for me in my times of sadness. We would share everything, play together, listen to music together. You could say we were like brothers had he been the few moments of light I had in my life. Shame he had to move to a new city when I was 12, the same time my mother died. It was great to have a friend who was like a sibling considering I never had any. My mother loved Martin like she was her second son. I just hope he’s doing okay though. I hope he’s not a wreck like me. My mother loved to tell me stories particularly about when she was a young girl. I loved the story where she stopped a whole gaggle of bullies that was overwhelming this one girl whom she befriended later. She told her a saying that would stick with me forever, “I’d do anything in my power to see you smile, even when I’m not by your side at all times.” I always wish my mother could say that to me at the stage that I’m in right now. Since the beginning of my semester, I have never made any friends. I thought I had friends but as usual, they prove to me why I don’t trust them in the first place.
At times, I tend to party or take the wrong drugs to relieve the pain. On Halloween night it was horrible. My three “friends” and I dressed up as the Akatsuki from Naruto. I was Pain. Whilst my three other friends were Konan, Hidan, and Deidara respectively. We attended a party in one of the other halls of residence and it had a great vibe and atmosphere. One of my “friends”, John, decided to spike my drink with some random substance that I wasn’t aware of. I drank it and suddenly my chest started to feel so shallow. I started to breathe rapidly, my line of vision was blurred and my cries were distorted and drowned out. No one helped me. I was all alone. Laughing was all I could hear from my suffering. My friends didn’t want to aid me in my time of need. I suddenly passed out and I woke up in a secluded area just outside the university. A quote really reminded me of this situation, “No matter how many relationships we seem to have, we’re all alone.”
Looking back, I wish Martin stayed. I never had a friend like him again. I think many of you can relate to what it feels like to have friends turn on you or what it’s like to think you had friends you can depend on. To be honest, I’m really lost with my life. I always put on a fake smile to conceal the pain but no one seems to care. I cry to numb the pain but at this point, no one will care if I just disappear. I’m hoping that one-day happiness shall shine through in my life. It may not happen consistently, but I just want some moments of happiness so I can feel more adequate with my life because it’s looking bleak at the moment. Maybe I’ll find happiness, maybe I won’t. I just want to feel less worthless.
End of story
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