Very, Very Angry

Very, Very Angry

By J B.

****Trigger warning**** Violence, Suicide, Bullying, Gore, Depression

I struggled to let out a strangled scream as he moved the blade in a swift practiced motion across the girl's neck. I chant silently in my mind, I’m next.

I looked into the eyes of the man strangling me. My mouth wide open, gasping for breath like a fish out of water. He applied more pressure and my throat caved in. Warm blood flooded my mouth, and I became painfully aware that I was about to die.

Unshed tears tugged at my long eyelashes as the man, my killer, continued to strangle me even though it was clear that I could no longer breathe. His eyes were cold and emotionless, it's not like I expected some sort of regret or even guilt, but nothing showed in his eyes.

Surprisingly, I did not feel fear, I did not feel sad, desperate, or panicky. I felt pity. His eyes were just as broken as my throat. Staring into those eyes that appeared to be of a young man, I felt my life begin to slip away from me.

It was leaving me just like everything else, everyone else.

I was pinned against the wall by two strong hands. I was hanging a few inches off of the ground by my neck.

The pain, oh, the pain was unbearable. It was like nothing I had ever experienced. The worst pain that I had ever felt was a few scratches, when a kitchen knife did not get the hint that the food was supposed to be cut, not me.

That pain was trivial, barely mentionable compared to this. I know it shouldn't surprise me, but instinct outweighed logic, and the tears that were tugging on my lashes came free and flowed down my face freefully.

I tried to hold them back desperately. Yes, I am now desperate. All that instantaneous pity for my murderer was gone. I was desperate to cling onto life. How on Earth did I get here?

It was supposed to be just a regular day when my worst enemy was the Geometry exam next period. But now, I am faced with the cruel reality that my life could be taken from me at any moment.

Any moment, by anyone. I guess I should have enjoyed life when it lasted, but instead I lived ordinarily, boringly, I suppose I should have… I just should have. Should have made more friends. Should have been better to my family. Should have been more generous. Should have travelled, seen the world. Should have lived more. Should have. I would of. I… I should have done something more.

I tried to speak. But instead of words to beg for my life, warm and thick blood sputtered from my mouth and dripped onto his hands.

Those broken eyes glaring daggers into my last bit of pride. Those cruel strong hands stealing away my life. My life. I want it back.

I want to live. I have to do all of my “should haves”.

I don't want this to be my end. I definitely don't want to die in school by the hands of a random stranger for no reason. But…

I know that no matter if I want it or not. I’m going to die. I am. A dark sadness. A sad darkness crept up my throat. Slithering around my spine all the way to my brain. The black snake dug its fangs into my brain, poisoning my last thoughts.

I wish… To live?

No, I want the pain to stop, just let it be quick. Let it be fast. Like the girl that I once called an acquaintance. She had a quick death. Why couldn’t mine have been fast like hers?

I want to live, I want to do all of the things that I haven't done. I want to make something of my life. I want to see tomorrow. I want… More.

I wish for a blade. Brain, heart, lungs. I wish… I need to die. Let the pain be over with. It doesn't matter anymore. I was meant to die here. I’m the side character in this story. I die in the beginning, a tragedy to make a hero. I’m going to disappear and no one will remember the normal little girl that lived boringly and died young.

I’m not okay with dying here. I want--need to live. I have to see what tomorrow would bring. I’m the main character that becomes stronger after an accident and takes control over her life. The hero and the one character no one could live without.

I want to die.

I need to live.

The venom from the sad desperate snake poisoned my mind. I don't know. I just don't know.

I was dropped to the floor. My killer obviously had enough of choking the life out of me. My lifeless body dropped to the floor.

The tears stopped. Why should I shed tears for a dead woman? People die every day, why should I care if I’m one of them?

My thoughts slowed. Why bother thinking? I’m going to die, whatever happens, happens.

My hands unclenched. I might as well relax. I did not move from my position, becoming aware of the blood pooling around me. My blood and “hers” mingling and combining to form an incoherent mass of DNA.

My hair settled on my face. I stared in the direction of the man that killed me. I did not bother to show any emotion. He looked me in the eye and I looked back. He stared for seconds…

He still is looking at me and my emotionless stare turns into an uncouth glare. His eye twitched.

I know. I’m about to die. I have accepted it. It helps that I have been slowly dying for years now from the sad black desperate snake telling me to depart from the world of the living.

I don't want to be another person that he killed with no emotion. I want to see something, it does not have to be guilt, not regret, sadness, or anger. Just something.

I guess when everyone, when I am dying, my desires shorten along with my lifespan. I went from wanting a new phone to wanting to see emotion on the face of the man that was killing me.

I don't know what to do to get what I want, but… I can do what comes naturally to me.

He's still staring into my harsh, accusing, and angry eyes when my mouth soaked in blood starts to twitch and upturn into a smile. I smiled at him. A genuine smile that I have barely used in all of my sixteen years.

Through the blood, though the fear of death, through the desire for life, and the venom from my snake. I smiled, more of a sneer.

I ignored the trickle of blood flowing from my mouth and began to laugh hysterically. It's funny, right?

I’m dying and smiling, and laughing, and regretting. I’m feeling. I’m alive, but dead.

His eyes widened with shock and trace amounts of fear as he watched as the girl that he just killed clutched her stomach from laughing too hard. She glared up at him. I glared up at him. A sick, insane smile on my face. Words in the form of blood fall from my mouth.

Hatred, love. Desire, indifference. Pity, desperate venom. And blood. Most of all dark red, thick, warm, sticky blood pours from my mouth as I laugh though the pain.

I collapse to the ground. Still staring up into his eyes.

Broken. Shattered. Reflective. Sad. Desperate. Pitiful.

I glare into the mirror of the bathroom. Trying to chase away the thoughts given to me by my in house snake.

I battle for dominance in my own head. Math.

Math is next. I can live until then. I can walk down the halls emotionless.

I glanced away from the mirror and to the girl on the ground, bleeding from the nose. Not dead, but probably wishing death on me. She struggled to her feet, flipping me off before leaving the bathroom. She should have known better than to mess with me.

I’m notoriously crazy and violent. The scary kind of violent. Calmly angry.

Very, very calm.

And very, very angry….