Creative Writing: The Person I Need To Die

Sitting on the floor curled into a ball, clutching my legs like I just go them back after a tragic accident. I look up at the white walls that stretch for miles. Other than the white walls, a white floor, and a white ceiling is me. I stick my head back between my knees and chest when the sound of far off clomping of footsteps begin. When they come to a stop not too far in front of me, I look up to see as my four best friends and people I thought who cared about me, Dahlia, Matt, Rebecca, and Sam, begin to scream and yell out how horrible of a person I am and how I fucked up their lives along with why I need to die. Once they had their fill, they all spin on their heel and leave. They they are disgusted by me, they hate me, they are done with …show more content…
As the number of cuts increases and blood bubbles before rushing down, I realize they are right. I am a terrible excuse of a life therefore, I need to die. I start to cut my wrists, but after only a few are made when a familiar hand grabs the sliced wrist. I look up and it's Matt. I thought he was going to help me since he did the last time I got hurt so I began to make a slight smile, but his eyes were so cold. He clenched on like a vice grip, spun his heel, and started dragging me down the white hall …show more content…
Matt walked up to me and I turned my head away sharply to cry, but so much liquid had already ran out of my eyes and down my cheeks from his previous visit, that all I could do now was gasp. He grabbed my jaw with his left hand and forced me to look into his eyes. After much fight against him, I was surprised to see that he was full of sorrow and regret. He was trembling with regret. I was very confused, especially when he leaned down shaking like a chihuahua to gently kissed my forehead. A sweet bit of bliss ran from the kiss to my veins and all throughout my body. He started to cry and as he was unlatching me from the table I realized what was going