Your parents get home from work at the normal time. They say hello and ask you to come say hi, as usual. But, this time is not the same. You do not answer, you can not answer. Your parents call again, more stern, but you still can not answer. They come looking for you and finally come into your room. Their jaws drop and eyes tear up. They run to you, balling their eyes out, hold your motionless body as they call the police. Their voices are frantic and choppy, similar to how yours use to be when you cried. Your mom finally utters the words “My baby committed suicide.” The ambulance and police arrive, pushing them out of your room. They send your parents to the living room, still balling their eyes out. As they carry your body down the stairs in a body bag, they hand your parents grief council and funeral home pamphlet. Your parents accept them and thank them as they carry your body out of the house. Monday morning the school bell rings, like usual. But you are not there. Your homeroom teacher calls your name, “Absent.” They begin teaching the lesson until the principal walks in and asks to speak to your teacher. Your teacher walks back into the classroom looking distressed, but carries on with the lesson. The announcements come on “Good morning Etobicoke School of the Arts. Here are your morning announcements.” They state that the principal has a message for the school. “We regret to inform you that one of our students has passed away.” He says your name and your friends look at each other with their eyes wide open. He states the funeral arrangements, reminds that guidances is willing to help anyone cope with the situation and asks for a moment of silence. The sciences is not silent. Its filled with your friends breaking down in tears. They do not know how you died they only know that you are gone, and you can not come back. Your friends and family attend your open casket funeral. They give their condolences to your parents but then the see your casket. They walk over to pay their respects. Tears hit your cold, pale body. But they are not your tears. You can not cry anymore. You do not have emotions anymore but your friends do. They found out you committed suicide and can not help but blame themselves. They will for the rest of their lives. People create a facebook group in memory of you. “If only you could see how many people care. RIP,” is a common comment. You can not see though. You are dead. You are six feet under now. Months pass and your friends finally start to feel a bit better about your death. Your parents are still upset. They blame themselves and see a therapist once a week. They tried going into your room but could not do it. They tell your friends to go in. They see your blog and their hearts sink. They read your post “I’ve been like this for way too long. I cant stand school, I can’t stand earth, I can’t stand society.” But they can not fix it now. It is too late. You lost your future, friends, and family.
part of my school project. Its not good at all, any advice? work in progress.
If only it woulf be true..