Sobs Emo Tears (899 hits)
Category: NoneRating: -0.25 on 23 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Laura (View user info) at 2005-08-16 16:12:22 EDT
Something I wrote in seventh grade. It's pure shit. Don't even bother reading past
<---- here
unless you're truly bored. Or want someone to pick on. But you can do that without reading this.
I'm just too impatient to wait for Thursday.
"To whom it may concern," the letter began. "After contemplating how I may get out of this situation for a considerable amount of time, I have decided that I have two ways out of my current situation."
Lindsey cried. She was not sure she wanted to continue reading the rest of the letter. Her guess was that her best friend's choices were not going to benefit her in any way, other than him being happy for a few hours. Days, maybe, but the options she imagined were not going to be a permanent solution. Her curiosity got the best of her, however, and she continued down the page, reading the poorly written words and overly emphasized punctuation.
"One way is, obviously, to run away, flee this place and this life, and, overall, abandon everything I've worked for over the last fifteen years. Though not the best option, it will fix my problems without many negative consequences."
That last part burned like a white-hot piece of metal out of the fires of Hell. Without many negative consequences... Was she included in that short list? Was her name written behind the word "Losing?" Was he even bothering to think of her? Over one year and a half, they had been friends, getting up to two, actually. Two long years she had dealt with his crap. His stupid, angst-filled, dramatic depression was what she had put up with, and he repaid her by abandoning her? Holding back her frustration, she braced herself for the other solution.
"The other solution is..." A teardrop was on the next few words, soaking into the ink and blurring the words even more than her tears were blurring her eyes.
"I can't do this. I can't deal with this..." she said out loud, half meaning to and half embarrassed at how much she was sobbing. She went to her journal and began reading the entries from last January.
The first entries she read reminded her of her early teenage years, when she was an overwhelmingly depressed little teenager, when the slightest rejection or problem would send her into a spiral of misery, when she stayed up until three AM contemplating suicide and listening to old Green Day albums. She did not know what to do. She could not relate to his feelings anymore. She had been in a lukewarm, nonchalant state for so long, she was numbed to what it felt like to be suicidal, though she did have records of what she felt in her journal. That is why she was read it. To feel what it was like again, if not only to help him out of this figurative pit.
Flipping through the pages much too slowly for a person who was trying to help her friend, she finally found her first entry that was seemingly depressing: "I'm not sure what's happening to my reputation. I am growing increasingly unpopular and..."
"Wow that was a shallow entry," she thought with an annoyed slap at the irksome entry.
She continued her search through the book, finally coming to one page which she recalled writing in the beginning of her freshman year.
"I feel alone. I don't know what to do. I lost all my friends over the summer, and the remaining acquaintances are shallow and have abandoned me. If only I could find somebody."
She meditated on the loneliness. After a few minutes, her CD began skipping and brought her from her trance.
Lindsey sat up, still mulling over her past loneliness. "How could I have been foolish enough to think death is the only way to escape suffering?" she thought, as she changed the still skipping CD. She replaced it with a more depressing Evanescence album.
The vacuous feeling of being alone had driven her most; rejection and the divorce of her parents had merely been kindling to the fire. She read on in her journals, giving herself a good mental slap in the face for being so naive and shallow. She hadn't faced many of his problems, so it was hard to identify with him. Heaving a heavy sigh, she turned her attention back to the letter:
"My second solution is a bit more permanent..." Lindsey's already shallow breath caught in her throat. She knew the words that followed, and she held great dread for what the solution would be.
"I could end this tragically desolate life for good. I could hang myself from the rafters of expectations that have been placed upon me, or slit my wrists with the dull blade of truth everyone has jabbed me with for so long. I've always been told I won't amount to much, yet I'm held at so high a standard, when I do fail, it feels as if I'm drowning in everyone else's hope for me. As for the ridicule, maybe they have a point. Majority rules, right? I have been kicked around for my individuality for so long by my parents, teachers, peers, and other people I put trust into, I see few options ahead of me..."
Lindsey read on through the letter, reliving the snippets of life he had included. Any mentions of herself were slightly held and brushed away as if she had not mattered much at all. Finally, she came to a part that gave the horrid situation a small glimmer of hope. There was a third option he had included:
"I could speak to somebody who can make me feel better, like a counselor. But alas, no counselors understand what I'm going through.
No counselors know what it's like to be shunned by peers. No counselors understand what it's like to be permanently disbanded from society and kicked to the curb by their family. If anybody does understand, I would love to get a little advice.
I could also commit myself to a so-called mental hospital, or maybe a treatment center for the manically depressed. I could get care from the workers and maybe climb past my fits of insane ranting and depression. The only thing I'm worried about it being looked at oddly. I hate to be looked at as if I'm insane."
"Well, yeah, that would be the best option by far." Lindsey said quietly. She thought about what she should tell him to do for a few minutes. She did not want him to leave, but it seemed as if he would be gone regardless of what he chose.
"I believe that my best option for my friends and family members would be for me to go to treatment, but I don't want their reputation to be soiled.
I need an answer soon, as I'll be compelled to kill myself if I must suffer through conversing with the insolent twits at school.
Sincerely,
Michael."
A gust of wind sent droplets of ice-cold water flying onto Lindsey, shattering the silence that shrouded her. She noticed another small note inside the envelope that had held Mike's suicide note. She opened it hastily and began reading.
"My dearest Lindsey,
I apologize for causing you to undergo so much angst. However, I cannot stop my suicidal feelings. The people at school piss me off, to put it bluntly, and I am unable to cope with being heckled by people who cannot spell the word 'a.'
I need you to help me from falling to the abyss of Hell.
Regards,
Mike."
"So, my wonderful consolation for losing my best friend is this lovely note? How wonderful! It's just what I've always wanted!" Lindsey continued yelling sarcastically. There was an add-on at the bottom of the paper.
"P.S. I have a present for you. It's in the mail and you should receive it in two days."
Mike was not a generous person, and she was sure she had not done anything to deserve an extra gift. Unless, of course, he was giving away prized possessions...
Lindsey ran out the front door with no regards to either her flannel nightgown and slipper attire, or the pounding or the rain that only matched the pounding of her heart.
She barreled down 3rd street, struggling to get to the corner of D and 4th. The half-paved gravel road cut into her feet and made a path of crimson swirls.
She ran up the steps of the gray house and pounded on the door. Nobody answered. The lights in his bedroom, though dimmed by curtains, were in use, and she could hear a lady speaking over the television.
"Buy this eight hundred fifty dollar piece of cloth we call a jacket, and you'll have friends!" Lindsey mocked. "Don't bother helping your friend, he has probably already died."
Lindsey walked around the house to grab a ladder. Gravel sticking up from the mud was digging into her feet. The rain began to grow heavier, seemingly with each step she took. Her clothes were completely soaked with blood and rain, and the mud was swallowing her. She pulled a nail from the bottom of her foot. At last, she had the ladder propped against the window to Mike's room and she frantically scrambled to begin the ascent. Every rung on the ladder built anticipation. Her feet were absolutely killing her. She hastily climbed and immediately began trying to remove the sharp, mesh screen.
With her eyes closed, she pulled open the cold, steel window and ripped the heavy curtains from the wall. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes to see Mike lying on the floor. He was paler than ever, dark circles surrounding his eyes. His mouth was open and dry. Despite the negativity, he looked so peaceful. She looked for even the faintest sign of life, but it seemed he was completely inanimate.
A cold sweat broke out across her brow, and yet her head began burning as all the blood rushed. She jumped into the room and ran to him. She shook him to try to wake him. She beat his chest. Her tears soaked him now. Everything paused. Time stood completely still. Nothing moved, or even made a sound. Lindsey could feel the atmosphere closing in on her; silence was choking her with its always-fatal grip. She sat, hunched over him on the floor. She pulled back her hair and unabashedly bawled. Her best friend was gone. Nothing could return his life.
What an atrocity.
User Reviews
Submitted by Istaros (user info) at 2005-09-05 02:14:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
you're a funny little cunt
Submitted by Soley_Trinity (user info) at 2005-08-18 06:26:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Emo: like a Goth only less dark and much more Harry Potter.
Submitted by mrwolf (user info) at 2005-08-18 05:56:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by TheGirlWithoutATitle (user info) at 2005-08-16 15:22:51 (#)
Ranking: 0
-2 Bastardized, misogynistic excuse for a man.
+2 Funny.
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http://www.ubersite.com/m/64400 - this is my true understanding of women and relationships. The piece you have reviewed was sattirical.
Submitted by olivia_tremor_control (user info) at 2005-08-17 00:48:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
+1 because johnnyx saying -2kakke made me laugh
Submitted by shitfuck (user info) at 2005-08-17 00:46:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
Suck.
Submitted by fluff (user info) at 2005-08-17 00:27:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
ok
Submitted by Fungah (user info) at 2005-08-16 21:34:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
I didn't read past
<- there.
Submitted by TheGirlWithoutATitle (user info) at 2005-08-16 21:31:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Shroom (user info) at 2005-08-16 20:43:17 (#)
Ranking: -2
Submitted by FartSmeller (user info) at 2005-08-16 16:39:39 (#)
Ranking: -2
This has never happened to me. I had to COME BACK to this piece of shit post and give you another -2 just because I hate your email address so much. Wow. It blows me away what a unique and special misunderstood-but-caring-and-smart-teenage-angst-filled flower you are. Let me guess: You paint your fingernails black.
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Submitted by TheGirlWithoutATitle (user info) at 2005-08-16 17:57:44 (#)
Ranking: 0
I paint my fingernails maroon and gray. But okay.
...Damn, people. Stop guessing. You suck at it.
Well actually, I'm selling lotto tickets. Guess the correct number, and you win one million dollars. Fifty dollars a try. Make that one hundred dollars.
Submitted by Shroom (user info) at 2005-08-16 20:43:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Submitted by FartSmeller (user info) at 2005-08-16 16:39:39 (#)
Ranking: -2
This has never happened to me. I had to COME BACK to this piece of shit post and give you another -2 just because I hate your email address so much. Wow. It blows me away what a unique and special misunderstood-but-caring-and-smart-teenage-angst-filled flower you are. Let me guess: You paint your fingernails black.
Submitted by Shroom (user info) at 2005-08-16 20:42:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Something I wrote in seventh grade. It's pure shit. Don't even bother reading past
<---- here
------------------------------------------------
Okay, I won't.
Submitted by MrSparkle847 (user info) at 2005-08-16 19:39:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Something I wrote in seventh grade. It's pure shit. Don't even bother reading past here unless you're truly bored.
___________________
Why would you waste space on Ubersite if you know it's shitty? I'm voting you off.
Submitted by TheGirlWithoutATitle (user info) at 2005-08-16 18:20:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I wouldn't put it down if it didn't suck. But it does. So I do.
Harry The Homo Hippo rocks, though. I should post that, next.
Submitted by sideshow (user info) at 2005-08-16 18:01:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Decent story, but you shouldn't put your own work down...
Submitted by TheGirlWithoutATitle (user info) at 2005-08-16 17:57:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I paint my fingernails maroon and gray. But okay.
Submitted by ICO (user info) at 2005-08-16 16:43:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Well, I read it... angsty-y indeed.
Submitted by FartSmeller (user info) at 2005-08-16 16:39:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
This has never happened to me. I had to COME BACK to this piece of shit post and give you another -2 just because I hate your email address so much. Wow. It blows me away what a unique and special misunderstood-but-caring-and-smart-teenage-angst-filled flower you are. Let me guess: You paint your fingernails black.
Grow the fuck up and quit with the "quirky"... THING. It's fucking annoying. Also, don't use the word emo anywhere for any reason when you're on this site, you're going to get eaten alive. And change or hide that ridiculous email address. This coming from a guy with the screenname "FartSmeller". Hmph.
Submitted by TheGirlWithoutATitle (user info) at 2005-08-16 16:38:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I especially loved the abuse of elipses dots. Makes me feel mysterious. Or just totally in love with periods...
Pixels for everybody!
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-08-16 16:36:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Well, you did warn us - certainly emo enough.
Here's a +1 to stave off the inevitable -2kakke you'll be getting.
Submitted by zakalwe (user info) at 2005-08-16 16:34:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by FartSmeller (user info) at 2005-08-16 16:31:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Fine. I won't read it. I'll just rate it based on your assessment of your own work...
Dipshit.
Submitted by badassmofo (user info) at 2005-08-16 16:30:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Took your advice and didn't read it.
and
DON'T EVER SAY EMO TEARS AGAIN, GODDAMN DO I FUCKING HATE THAT WORD!!!
Submitted by Chroniclysm (user info) at 2005-08-16 16:27:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Don't tell me something is shit and that I shouldn't read but then post it all anyway. I didn't read it, per your wishes. This is the score associated with what I took from this post.
Don't bother (-2)
Submitted by TheGirlWithoutATitle (user info) at 2005-08-16 16:17:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Wait, no. Ninth grade. Seventh grade was Harry the Homo Hippo. I always get these mixed up.