A Bad Day

I stood at the head of the table. Knife in hand. I had chosen it because it was the sharpest one in the kitchen; a long curved fillet knife with a broken off tip. I remember just standing there for a long time listening to my own thoughts. Fighting for my life. I can still feel the unexplainable despair that had permeated every aspect of my existence. I could not remember a happy moment, let alone a happy day.
I’m not sure why I was alone that day in the kitchen. I remember the rest of the family would not be home for hours to come. There was no one to distract me, no one to pretend for, no one knew or cared what I was doing. I have seen enough animals bleed out in my life to know how quick it would be. I chose my left wrist. My right hand is stronger, and I figured I would have more control that way. I remember how cold and emotionless it all was. I was about to take my own life, and it felt no more despairing than any other action I had taken that day.
Depression consumes you. It takes away all the light around you, all the light that has ever been around you, the memory of light, the idea of light is unfathomable.
I placed the knife on my wrist, felt the cold steel, positioned it. I listened. Nothing but my own even breathing, and my thoughts. I felt relief then. I was in control of something. I wasn’t afraid of the pain. I wasn’t afraid I would chicken once the knife split my skin. I was just relieved that all the frantic voices in my head, all the feelings of self-loathing, and all the memories of, and future, bullying would soon be gone.
I don’t know why in that my most selfish, and dark moment I thought of my family. They would come home to all the blood, my body crumpled on the floor. I would cause them pain, the same kind of pain that I was trying to escape. I imagined my little brother running into the house to great me as he always did.
I replaced the knife on the rack, sat down at the head of the table. I always felt like a failure, and now I had even failed at failing. I sat there for a long time listening. Not a sound except my thoughts, and someone crying.