This story is entirely a creation of my mind and no portion is copied or taken from any where. It could be triggering, so read at your own risk.

*Contest Entry*

Curled underneath the sheets, I knew I was safer than when I was outside, sat face down among people. Beneath this layer of threads, I wasn’t scared of being judged, but still it didn’t feel okay. It felt nowhere near okay. It felt horrible. I kept staring at the wall clock, listening to its ticking. It scared me for a second, realizing I had been doing this for the past 4 hours; just staring as the time passed by. I couldn’t sleep, I didn’t know why though. I had been unable to sleep for a month now. It felt like a monotonous routine to which I was becoming used, now. I sat up straight. I knew mom would be on her way with a tray of ‘healthy food’ and pills, and I knew I would have to take them, if only for throwing up later. But I had to.

I waited, counting every single tick, occurring in rhythm to my heart beat. The door swung open;

‘Katherine. Are you okay sweetie?” I heard my mother say.

I wondered what was the point of calling me ‘sweetie’? It wasn’t making me feel terribly good about neither myself nor her. I decided ‘sweetie’ will make it to my ‘intolerable words’ list.

She bent forward and placed the tray on the bed. Mom had a habit of watching me eat, which made me tight most of the time but I never uttered a word. Arguing seemed like a nerve wrecking task.

After she left, I knew it’s time I threw up. I couldn’t put my stomach through so much strain. I made my way to the toilet and bent over.

‘Two fingers and my throat.’ I thought.

It would do the trick, I knew. I put my fingers deeper into my throat and tapped them against the mucosa, once..

Twice…

Thrice…

And it rose, I felt like hell but on the inside, somewhere deeper I felt relief, relief of letting go, relief of easing my body. All of it, all of the healthy food I had consumed came out. I saw it falling down and I closed my eyes. I was at ease.

Carefully making my way back to bed, I lied down yet again. I stared at the open window and I saw our neighbor moving the baby trolley, while trudging her way across the steep road. It was her first baby;

Trisha

She had the biggest green eyes I had ever seen. I silently prayed even though my belief in God was as weak as my inner self. But I prayed, I prayed for her to not end up with pills and a clingy mother. I tried to imagine about the good stuff, like my doctor had said, like that was ever going to help me. Even pills didn’t.

I imagined my favorite season, it was winter. It was when snow covered the roads and people stuffed themselves up with fluffy clothes. It was when everything was white. I imagined the mountains where I hiked, with Christian, my ex. Oh how devastated he must have been without me! But I knew this wasn’t true. He wasn’t half as moved as I was. He had moved on, some tall blonde with an accent and Christian had it all going for him again. Sadly enough.

I looked over my life; two decades and a prescription of pills I had always avoided. I saw 20 palm trees, because I had always wanted to go to California, and I looked beyond it, I wanted there to be more of them, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find any beyond 20. Just twenty palm trees on a road in Cali sunshine, like the years of my life. Sadly there were only 20. Only 20.

I had been reading and deciding, I knew it was time. But, I thought maybe I’m just a coward.

“Do something on impulse, just once Kate.” Jessica, my eccentric cousin used to say. Alas, I had always been the careful one, yet I ended up in a mental hospital with regular sessions of Electroconvulsive Therapy, while she enjoyed the consequences of her impulsiveness.

‘I need the reward.’ I thought.

‘What will it be?’ The other me questioned.

‘Freedom!’ I repeated it over and over until I had reached the drawer. I opened it slowly, and there they were, beautifully settled and glazing. I picked one up, and settled it onto my wrist, I noticed the skin and how thin it was. I should’ve been scared. I knew I had fidgeted a little. My bones squirmed but I had settled for freedom and I knew I was getting it at any cost.

I walked over to the bathroom and turned on the tap. Steam rose from the water as it filled the tub.

‘That’s a great idea.” I thought.

As it had filled halfway, I stepped inside. One breath at a time. One.

I sat down, my butt touching the bottom of the bath tub while my skin drowned underneath the warm water. It was a beautiful feeling.

‘Not many people have it like me.’ I thought and smiled.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before raising my arm and placing the silver square onto the pulsating veins that displayed themselves from underneath. I knew I had to do one at a time, and I knew I had to do both.

‘DON’T! THERE’S SO MUCH MORE!’

‘WHAT IS THERE?’

‘LIFE’

‘THERE’S NO MORE LIFE, NO MORE PALM TREES NO MORE PALM TREES’

I said this mantra over and over and slid the square down on my arm. It didn’t hurt much, but after a while it sting like a bitch.

‘pain is the measure of freedom’

I thought as I did the same to my other arm. The scarlet liquid oozed out, layering over the crystal clear water. It colored the water in, yet I felt warm. I let my arms fall underneath the colored water and leaned back. It hurt. It did hurt and I couldn’t see palm trees.

But I could see freedom; freedom from my ever increasing misery and self loathing. Freedom from what they called ‘life’, I could see a new beginning but somewhere inside, I was sad. I was sad for not being able to see any more palm trees...