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Hurt myself, that's exactly my plan.

The sound of my nails clinking on the cold, hard, shiny metal of the guns handle.

It’s amazing.

As I think about my future, and about the decision I must make carefully, and quite soon, all I can hear is click, click, click.

I think it may be driving me insane, the sound is so soothing, I cannot stop.

Perhaps it’s a bad idea to continue. But it just makes all the bad go away. I can now see things from a lighter perspective.

It’s simple, really. What she did was wrong, and as much as I love her, and I do love her more than I have ever known, I must get my revenge.

It’s sadistic really, hurting someone I love because I can’t stand being hurt anymore. It really is quite ironic.

I just want her to understand though, I want her to understand the way she is making me feel… I want her to feel it too.

It’s not like I want to hurt her, that most definitely is not the case.

It’s just, why doesn’t she deserve to feel what I feel?

This feeling, the feeling of hurt, betrayal, dishonesty, for so many years. It is a thing I cannot live through anymore.

Although I cannot bring myself to act on this decision, I know the only way to make her feel the way I do, is to end my own life.

You see, I have lived through years of this, and for her to only see one day of this? That isn’t fair at all.

I can see the way she is staring into my eyes. Her baby blue eyes, surrounded by the saddest tone of red.

It is honestly heartbreaking, but I can read her like a book.

I can tell she is wondering what has gotten so into me lately. Why am I acting so, twisted?

The honest truth is, I am not twisted, but her life needs to end, while she lives it.

As I sit here, still clinking the handle in my hand, all of the thoughts and memories rush through my mind.

Usually I don’t get so deep into it, but some days I just breakdown.

Today is one of those days.

All the memories flood at once, like a sudden burst of emotion. The memories I did witness, the memories I didn’t.

I start recreating the memories in my head, and some how they manage to dance down to my heart till I’m drowned in them.

The pain is completely unbearable, but somehow I thrive off more. I need more motive, I need more horror, I just need, more.

By the time I have reached the end of memory lane, it seems like it’s been hours in the following minute or so.

My heart, I can feel it bursting into tears. I truly am drowning in the memories and I hate it.

I know all I have to do to end this is take my own life, but is it that simple?


Yes, it truly is that simple.

So I don’t understand why this conclusion hasn’t come to me sooner.

I’m going to jump in to it.

So here I go.

I can hear her tears start to choke as her eyes scream for me to stop. Now she knows how I feel. But, I don’t care.

She deserves more.

I take a different approach this time, I can feel the tip of the gun on my left temple this time.

This wont hurt at all.

Only the lead up hurts.

As I pull the trigger, in those two seconds, so much hurt goes through me.

My head pounds as I do it, it feels like a thousand drums inside my brain. My eyes water and tear out of their sockets. My nose quivers, my lips tremble. The crease in my forehead gets longer then ever. My arms shake, my knees buckle, my feet are numb. My lungs burst open and fall into my stomach in a million tiny pieces. My heart has ten thousand knives going through it, and a dagger with the word ‘love’ written on it.

I tighten my eyes as they shake.

As I hear the screeching of the bullet fly past my head, I notice something strange.

I’m alive.

As I pulled the trigger, I felt the force of the bullet pull my weak, dead arm across.

I missed.

I wish I hadn’t of though, it would all be over.

I hear her muffled screams.

Take two…

Hurt myself, that's exactly my plan.


Joined March 2009

  • Artist
  • Artwork Comments 4

Artist's Description

The third installment.

Artwork Comments

  • Sarah Bentvelzen
  • NaturalDisaster
  • Sarah Bentvelzen
  • NaturalDisaster
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