9
June
2009
I remember when I broke Jesus.
It was Christmas day and my house was filled with people. Everyone was in the kitchen and dining room. It was like an ocean of people. I didn’t even know half the people there. I felt my face getting red, the blood rushing to my face, and my hands into fist. I just walked away. I wasn’t allowed to go upstairs, so I went to my living room, where there was peace and quiet.
I sat on my couch and stared at the Christmas tree. I looked at all the boxes covered in beautiful wrapping paper. I looked at the name tags. Most of them were for me. Then I stared a baby Jesus who was right under the tree. I stared at his eyes, they were exactly as an oval, and his legs and arms—they looked too real.
I think that his features made me so curious and I decided to carry him. I went over and slowly touched it first; then, I put my hands under his back and shifted his weight on to my hands. Then somehow—and I am not kidding—his head banged on the tree trunk and it fell off.
I just looked at its head on the floor and then at its body in my hands. I stood there, not knowing what to do. I was scared. So I took off running to my mom, with Jesus’ body still in my hands, yelling “Headless Jesus!!!” And once I arrived at the kitchen everyone slowly shifted their head to look at what was in my hands, and then to my face. There was complete silence for about ten seconds and then everyone burst into laughter. Again I felt the blood rush to my face and I knew it was bright red.
My mom took the body from my hands and then took ne of my hands. She escorted me back to the living room. “Gabriela, go up to your room. I’ll be there in a minute. Everything is fine.” She said and I did as I was told.
She came into my room. “You know what you did is wrong. But hey, you can’t erase the past. You and I will go and get it fixed.” Then she told me other shit. She told me that Jesus was ‘Holy’. Now that was what freaked me out. I was four. I was dumb, I didn’t know anything, I stilled believed in Santa and I DIDN’T KNOW JESUS WAS HOLY!!
So I went with my mom to get ‘Headless Jesus’ fixed. And from that day on I never touch it, and I became and atheist. So this moment really means nothing to me, but I have learned to appreciate every moment like this.
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9
June
2009
Today most people say that suicide is never the way out. To search for help. I disagree. I believe what their saying is a myth. Most people today are really messed up, they’re cruel, intimidating and make you feel like a piece garbage. Right now I think that the world a piece of garbage. Most teens and adults are insecure these days, making suicide seem like the only way out. People who commit suicide are usually being hurt emotionally or physically. But I believe that suicide is sometimes the only way out.
Suicide sounds crazy. As a matter a fact, it is, but if you really think about it, it’s not. I talked to my mom about it once, and she told me that people who commit suicide or those who are thinking about it, have problems. She says it has something to do with your mind. I disagree, I mean obviously they do have problems. But I don’t think they are insane or mentally challenged either.
People as young as 15 years old are committing suicide. In the year 2000 there were 29,350 deaths caused by suicide in the United Sates. What does this tell us? Suicide was their way out. They didn’t want to stay here and suffer until they die on their own. This is telling us that people really hate life and just can’t wait. If I could I would have told all those people that I’m on their side, which I understand. What does this tells us about the world? That it’s a bad place with criminals, poverty, and global warming.
Not that long ago did I had someone die. We still don’t know if it was suicidal or just a accident. I think it was suicidal. I saw how she was being hurt. I lived with her and in a way I felt her pain. Shedidn’t deserve to die that way, but she chose it, and no body knows why, but I think she just wanted to end her pain, and who wouldn’t? Who would keep on living their horrible depressed life just to find out that there isn’t a way out. She had enough and decided to kill herself and her daughter. She succeeded on killing herself, not her daughter. This is my proof that it sometimes is the only way out. I could only imagine the pain she was going to.
I just finished a book about suicide. A girl named Hannah Baker commits suicide, but she leaves tapes behind. On these tapes are 13 reasons why she killed herself, and each reason has a story behind it. People who are on the tapes are held responsible for her death. She mailed the set of tapes to the first person on that list. And the person who got those tapes was to pass them on to the person whose story was next. And so she says that the 13th person could take all the tapes to hell. If they weren’t passed on she would know and they will be released to the whole town and they would find out. So they had to be passed on…these stories weren’t pleasant.
Hannah did this because was hurt emotionally. People played with her emotions. Teens at her school made up rumors, and lies. She was abused by the boys, betrayed and used by her friends. She hated her life. She couldn’t think of one good reason why all of this should happen to her. Every time she reached for help people let her down. She felt completely alone. Once she already had suicide on her mind=2 0she hesitated. Before she did anything she first went to her guidance counselor thinking that he would help. He didn’t, and she couldn’t believe it. He did put in the effort, but not enough of it. She was once again let down. So she was decided. She had an overdose on pills, and died.
Suicide was her way out. There was no solution to her problem. She could’ve tried to look for one but unfortunately she didn’t. She didn’t want to stay in a world where nothing was right. She didn’t want to keep suffering. So she gave up. She could’ve kept going, and enduring the horrid life she had, but no. She took the easy way out. I wouldn’t want to be in her position and do nothing about it. She kept her mouth shut until those tapes. She could’ve told all of the stories to the 13 people right into their freaking face. They could’ve apologized. But no, she went on with her idea and died. Hannah was only 15 years old.
Take 9/11 as another example. I think that the people who high jacked the airplane wanted to die. That’s why they did such a horrible thing. I don’t think that they were stupid enough to hit the World Trade Center and think they were going to survive. I believe that they thought that this would be their way out. Even if they survived I’m sure that they either would have them killed or put in jail until they died.
I believe that suicide may be the only way out. I know I wouldn’t want to stay in a world so messed up for the rest of my life, not with everything that’s going on today, war, global warming, the economic crisis, immigration, poverty, oil, politics, terrorism, racism, sexism and so on. I wouldn’t be surprised if the number of deaths caused by suicide increased. This world is so unbelievably messed up that people just can’t take it anymore! I strongly believe that suicide is sometimes the only option in this thing we call “life”.
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1
June
2009
Nothing can be done, now.
Just wait.
But waiting is
like waiting for something good to happen
when your life is almost at it’s end,
its like waiting for rain in
a drought,
its like waiting for the stock market
to go back to what you began with.
When you stopped waiting you waited
for something you wished
you never would’ve waited for.
You’ve been waiting for nothing.
You wish you would’ve
waited for something big,
like the lottery.
But no,
you waited for darkness.
for your bitter end.
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1
June
2009
I can’t run.
They got me.
Staring at me
with joy.
I’m trapped in a dark
dark corner.
There is no way to escape.
I stare back
hoping they’ll read the sorrow in my eyes and just
go back to where they came from.
Nothing happens.
They get closer.
The corner gets darker and darker.
Than
Nothing but
Darkness.
Posted under Uncategorized
1
June
2009
Smoke. The smoke is everywhere
nothing i could
do. just watch and
wait.
Burning. The dying souls are in there
Burning and I, not able to do anything.
I stare.
The smoke is in my eyes,
nose and head.
Burning the mind of my own,
taking out the bad memories and the good,
making a new me, forgeting everything that has happend so far.
Now. I’m just waiting for
something to happen. for it to
be over. The fire keeps burning and flames are still
bright orange and red. It burns my eyes to watch.
Sirens. I can hear sirens in the distance,
getting closer and closer.
Trying to save lives and cut the fire out.
Water. Water takes the fire.
Pieces of paper are wet
bodies, desks, chairs, and glass are soaked.
Dead. No one comes out
Alive.
I stood. I stood and thought
Is it my fault?
Posted under Uncategorized
5
April
2009
Being afraid
I feel sad
The thoughts are like dying flowers
In a ball of dust
making no sense
my head hurts
my stomach tightened
and I shattered into halt
more afraid and now stressed
I feel the guilt…its eating me alive
slowly
chomping and chewing away.
I die
The pain slowly turns to nothing.
The sadness and sorrow disappears.
I feel nothing,
all i see is the bright light.
I’m dead yo.
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22
February
2009
Mom and dad aren’t the same anymore. They won’t talk to each other, and if they do, they argue. When they do I feel useless, unloved and unwanted. Mom is always mad. She doesn’t talk to me anymore. She spends everyday saying how her life is a mistake and how she doesn’t deserve to be alive.
“Get in the car!” mom came into the room with wet tears down her face. That only meant one thing; arguing.
“Why? Where are we going?”
“Get in the fucken car for God’s sake! I had enough with your father!” More tears were coming out of her dark brown eyes. I got started to put my shoe’s on but kept tumbling. My hands were shaking, making it impossible to tie my shoes. But I did what I was told. I got into the back of the car and a little after my mom got in as well. She had a suitcase. Where the hell is she taking me? I felt my face getting red, my eyes burning then, my face was filled with tears. I felt how each tear flowed onto my round face.
“Why are you crying? Listen don’t worry, everything is going to be alright.” I didn’t respond. I just kept quiet and stared out the window. It started to rain. I started to think. The car was going faster and faster. It started to rain more, raindrops falling hard on the car’s roof. The car was at 120 miles an hour. Thump Thump Thump across the glass window. I see a red car coming our way…
Then I was blank. Didn’t remember anything. I felt pain. I couldn’t raise my left arm to feel my head. Am I hurt? Where am I? Not in the car. What happened? Some weird guy asked me how I was feeling. “Pain.” I said.
“Yes, well your spinal cord is broken, your neck too.”
“Why can’t I move my arm?”
“That’s also broken.”
“Oh…Who are you?”
“Honey you don’t remember me?”
Why was he calling me “Honey”? I didn’t respond, kept quiet. He obviously knew me.
He broke the silence.”I’m your dad.”
“What happened to me? If you were my dad I think I would remember you.”
“Well, you were in a car crash and got hurt. I can’t believe you don’t remember me.”
“Car crash? When?”
“Wait here.”
Why cant I remember the car crash? Why can’t I remember my dad? Whats wrong with me? My ‘dad’ came back with a doctor. I’m in the hospital. So there was an actual car crash. The doctor asked me a lot of questions and I don’t remember anything. I don’t even know my name. I asked him questions, and he answered all of my questions. My name is Maya, I am 7, I was in a car crash with my mom, she died and I survied. My mother is dead.
* * *
Every night I would pray to God asking him to bring her back. I prayed for three years and nothing. He never answered my prayers. I gave up believeing. There was never any God. I spent three years talking to no one but the 4 plain white walls that surround me. I asked my dad if there was a God. He never answered. He didn’t know how to explain to a 7 year old that there only was a God for the good things and that he would let you suffer when things go bad. If God loved me; why would he take my own mother away and leave nothing but pain? My dad now apologizes to me saying that the whole death thing was his fault. My memory came back and I remembered exactly what had happen the night my mom died. I remember the crash. I remember her face for the last time. I saw her die in a blink of an eye and I was in the back…hopeless and unable to do nothing.
Mothers Day is a holiday I never look forward to. She’s gone and I have to go and visit her grave. What can I say? Thank you for everything that you’ve done? Thank you for leaving me? Thank you for killing yourself? What can I say on a day dedicated to mothers when my mom is dead? I hate her for that! I hate her! I hate her! I HATE HER!!! Why did she have to do that?!?!? I keep hoping that any minute I could wake up and find out that this is all a dream that what I am living through is fake. That any minute my mom would walk into my room and calm me down from this nightmare. I dream of that dream, then wake up and come back to reality. She’s gone…
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