This is how it starts
I walk to school. Again. I think about how life and existence is a loop. Again. And I wonder why I won't just end it all. Again.
I walk through the door and I smile. In a room full of girls with their faces covered with thick makeup. mine is still the most fake in there, even without any on myself. I avoid sitting down and I talk to everyone, just so I don't think. I'm smiling, laughing and faking an interest in whatever boys they're thinking about now, or their holidays.
Everyone starts to come in, so I go to my table and talk to my group. Again, about a TV show, or homework or boys. I keep the act up for a while but I just pull away eventually. I sit there, and the thoughts flood my whole body, and it hurts. I stop myself from crying, or walking out the door and I just listen to everyone else, and how genuine they are. I go to my first lesson. Fine. I do my work. Talk to people. Exist.
I go to break. I talk to a new set of people and they ask how I am, but only because they're not good themselves. I say I'm fine and they believe it. Am I that good at faking? But then again, maybe doing the same thing every day for years makes it easier to lie. You're a liar. They don't press on it because they don't care, I think. I distract myself and go to my next lesson. And the next. And it's not until lunch that anything happens.
The fact that everyone suddenly hated me was getting to me, and my thoughts were overwhelming. I do what I usually do at lunch. I go to the canteen and eat food I don't want to, afraid that it'll make me feel worse. But it's not the food that does, it's the people. The same people I've had lunch with for the past two years, even though I feel they ignore me. They talk between themselves, in their little pairs and I sit there and stare at a random spot. Then it's the 'Why are you sitting there being emo?' or 'Why are you being depressed?'. And I don't reply properly. I say, 'I'm not', laughing it off, and they give up. They give up on me a bit too easily.
Even still, I stay with them. I do what they want to do, even though I might as well not be there. The thoughts just keep coming, and coming, wave after wave, the same thing over and over. And the people I think about come in, one by one, so I leave.
I walk out the door and don't stop. I walk all around the school, outside and I just freeze. I stand there and think.
Now I'm stood on the ledge of the school roof. Arms outstretched, feet prepared to jump, and my thoughts running wild in my mind, as if they're having an argument about what to do next. Some telling me to jump, and others allowing me to just... be.
This isn't the first time I've found myself up here. No, the first time was about a year ago, when the thoughts started to become too much. I come back at least once a week, and no one even notices.
Scary as it may sound, it's peaceful up here. I'm in control of my life, whether I choose to end it right here and now, or just organise my thoughts. There's not much to look at here; the infinite rows of streets with identical houses climbing the hills, or the few trees seen from the park in the distance. It's not much, but it feels safe. Ha! That's ironic as I'm literal centimetres away from my death.
The bell rings, telling me to come down to reality. But I always struggle with doing so- removing myself from the tranquillity of freedom. The second I'm back on the sloped concrete floor, everything, every thought, comes rushing back to me. And every time I wish that voice had won the argument.
