kristrivedi
it was autumn, when I killed myself. That day was lovely, or sort of. The sky was gray and the air was cold and dry. I had walked into the bathroom and decided that this was it. I couldn't take it anymore. As I drew the glass along my wrist, and felt the blood seep out of my veins, I took one last look at the autumn sky and closed my eyes. Never to feel pain again.
when my teacher asks me to print, my heart leaps with joy. This is simply because that my cursive SUCKS. I had always screwed up my s's and r's and g's and all the funky letters. In fact printing has always been my easier form of writing that i enjoyed, also because a computer cannot write in cursive.
Summer is the best time of the year, other than Christmas. Its the only time where I can do whatever I want to without being nagged by homework, school, or parents. I usually go play in the park or go swimming, but being an only child, I developed a strong anti-social thing, and I enjoy hanging out with myself, and not my friends, much to my parents dismay.
The paper was covered in several in blotches. It was as if the beautiful Fountain pen had come down with a case of stomach flu and puked all over the manuscript. However, it was the fault of the writer, to create the blotches. The writer had simply just decided to take his anger out on the paper and this was the result.