Better this Way

I pick up the knife.

All is ready:

The letter is on the table,

“To whom it may concern…” you know the rest.

Their voices still haunt me.

Will they ever be silenced?

The metal is cold against my skin,

I will be better this way.

Will God be upset?

Will he think I was a waste of human life like everyone else?

The laughter is still echoing through my head.

I feel something warm running over my skin.

My wrists tingle like a thousand tiny needles.

There is no turning back now.

The knife is hard to grip as I finish the job.

Don’t cry mom, it’s better this way, I hope.

The room grows dark.

Then I’m faced with a blinding light.

I’m standing before my savior.

He shows me the pain that came with me leaving.

“Now do you believe it was better this way?”  He asks me sadly.