*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1938072-Dont-Do-It
by Emma
Rated: ASR · Chapter · Death · #1938072
I'm your conscious, hello, get used to me:)


Chapter One~Conscious

          Stop.  You don’t want to do this.  Trust me.  I’m on the other end and it’s nowhere near as wonderful as your life right now.  Put those pills down.  It’s hell here, it really is, don’t expect anything better if you go through with this.  You know you don’t want to.  It’s not worth it, yes, good choice, that’s the perfect spot to put the pills, you won’t be able to get to them there.  Walk away and cry, let it out. It’s way better than what you were about to do. If you don’t believe me okay, but at least while I’m your conscious you won’t do anything too stupid.  That’s right, I’m your conscious. I don’t fall for those lies you tell everyone. I see the tears at night, I feel the pain you do, I understand how it feels to go through an awful day.  It’s my job, to help people get through days that seem impossible.  Now that you know what I’m doing in your mind let me tell you a little bit about me.

         I’m dead. I killed myself on an overdose of medications, too many to count.  I was hopeless, I felt worthless, helpless, and alone.  Isn’t that how you feel?  I chose the easy way out, the cheap and selfish way and it got me nowhere.  It took me to hell, full of even more misery. But then, I chose an afterlife position that I feel passionately about.  Conscious.  Helping others in the place I was in.  I will never forgive myself for what I’ve done, so the most I can do is help others from making the same mistake that I did. 

         I grew up with an alcoholic father and an abusive mother.  They didn’t plan on having me, and when they did, they turned me into their slave.  My mother hit me until I had broken bones and my father gave me crap until I cried in front of him.  My mother would starve me for days, then would only feed me to keep her servant alive.  I would tell my father and he would say that I did something to deserve it. I asked him what I did and he told me that my problem was that I was born.  That was my home situation, now school was even worse, torture.  People shoved me into lockers, stole my lunch money, called me fat, ugly, a whale, everything and anything you can think of.  No one even gave me the decency of a smile to make my day.  I was alone in a world I thought was only out to get me. So what did I do?  I self-harmed and then after that wasn’t fulfilling enough I killed myself.  It only took one attempt, and it worked.

         So in conclusion, I know what you are feeling, I really do and it will be a while before I leave your mind, so let’s get close and settle in.  My job is to make sure you don’t do anything extremely stupid and I’m pretty good at my job, don’t mess with me.  I know what I’m doing and can talk anyone out of anything.  You won’t be the first person to kill yourself on my watch, I promise.  I’m too good, sorry.
© Copyright 2013 Emma (justasmile at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1938072-Dont-Do-It