Aight Nonnie. Fine you want to play like that? Fine. We’ll play.
So let’s say I did actually kill myself tonight because you wanted me to. Let’s just say I didn’t tell a single soul. Let’s just say I was dead because of you.
My blog would fade away. People would have no idea what happened to me. Those few people that do like to talk to me and see me on their dash wouldn’t know what happened to me. They’d be scared. They’d be worried about me. Why? Because of you. Because you had to open your annoying little grey fucking faced mouth and act all tough behind a computer screen.
But it’s not going to stop there. Imagine now, being at my house. My little brother comes to my room to wake me up the next day and make sure I’m feeling okay, to find me dead. Blood’s covering my bed and my wrists are slit. I’m not breathing and my corpse is already cold. Imagine the look of complete horror when my brother realizes his sister’s never going to wake up again. He rushes to my side, shaking me, begging me to wake up. Getting no response, he calls my father and lets him know he thinks I’m dead. My dad leaves work immediately and rushes home to find my brother still by my lifeless side. My brother looks up at my father with a tear streaked face and watery eyes. “She’s gone…” he whispers. My father’s in denial though and screams at me to wake up. When he realizes I won’t, he falls down to my side holding my hand crying. There’s no note, no warning, nothing. They don’t know why I did this and they’ll probably never know. My brother and my father will always wonder if they could have somehow saved me from this fate. They’ll carry around this burden forever, never able to get it off their shoulders.
But wait, flash forward two weeks to my funeral. My lifeless body that you put there lays in a casket. I’m surrounded by people I thought, didn’t want me alive because you wanted me. My mother’s crying unable to believe her little girl is gone. My dad’s holding my little brother, trying to stay strong for him as sobs rake through his body. Silent tears though, are rolling down my father’s face as he stares stoically forward, the words the preacher is saying just a fuzz. My best friend’s sobbing. She’s known me since kindergarten and yet she had no idea I was going to kill myself. She wonders if there’s someway she could have helped me, the way friends are supposed to and she carries this with her forever. My aunts and uncles and cousins they’re heartbroken. Charlie, Calea and Pepper, they don’t understand. They’re to young to understand their cousin Cassie is never coming home, they’re never going to see her again. They don’t understand that she’s gone, that she’s dead and they won’t understand til they’re much older. Calea may never have memories of me and neither will Pepper. They’re too young to remember their cousin. They’ll see pictures of themselves with a young blonde smiling and enjoying life but she’ll be nothing more than a mere stranger to them.
But no one, not a single soul in that church, will know that you’re the one that did this to me. You’re the one that broke me to the point where I killed myself. You’re the one that hurt me so much that I wanted to die. You’re the one that caused my death and you will have that blood on your hands for the rest of your life. So read this well and read this wisely because I can promise you, you may think you want me dead, but you will have to carry the burden of knowing you killed an innocent life by your words. You’re not anymore special than I. You’re not anymore important than I. We’re all equals on this world. We all came to this world the same way and we mean just as much on this earth as an ant. Everyone is important and just because you don’t like them doesn’t mean you can tell them to kill themselves. Hate breeds nothing but bitterness and the fact that you believe it to be okay to hate someone makes me feel sad for you. I hope someday you realize just how much impact your words could have on someone because if you don’t, someday you’re going to hurt someone to the point where they’ll never come back and you’ll have to live with that for the rest of your life. So tell me, are you prepared to carry that burden or will you hate yourself for the rest of your life because you lost someone you cared about?
Instant, blinding red rage toward anon.