The End

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Waves crash against the cliffs tempting to drag me in. Pulling me to fall in and drown so I can finally leave my worries in life at the chance to embrace my own death.

Freedom lays in the vast ocean of water. I can go anywhere. I can be anything. I can be with her again. And the pain, the suffering can diminish at the sound of her beautiful voice speaking to me. She will be welcoming me to her permanent sanctuary she has called home for almost two years.

She lives in the ocean. She is everywhere the moment we placed her ashes to rest forever here. Drifting away further and further somewhere else then here. I know she is happy. She's finally at peace after all the years she was suffering in her own misery. She's happier in the afterlife than she ever has been alive and it's not fair.

I want to be with her again. I want to go. I'm done. I finally decided I can't take it anymore. I've wanted to embrace this from the young age of thirteen and I know how wrong that is. I sound insane. I sound mentally unstable needing some major help but the thing is I don't want help. I don't want to wait anymore when waiting has gotten me nowhere through the years.

Everything in my childhood I blocked out is resurfacing again. Name calling and painful memories of what life was like at home. No abuse. No I was never abused physically but emotionally and mentally. Hurt by words telling me things a parent should never say or should. That's why it's so funny and weird how much I want to take my life and be with my mom who was hardly around. But I'm thinking, I'm hoping in death she can be the person she was supposed to be. She can comfort me and tell me everything I need and wanted to hear for so long.

She can tell me it's okay now and what happened to leave me broken at fifteen wasn't my fault and she's sorry she didn't say or do enough back then. I'd accept the apology because what happened wouldn't matter anymore.

I try not to cry. I try my best not to but I find it hard sometimes. I break down when no one is looking. I crumble into a million pieces and no one notices. I'm crying now in the middle of the night. Pitch black in the dark only the moonlight reflecting off the water. I'm inching closer to the cliffs and no one notices. No one sees me and that's sadly what I wanted. I don't want anyone to stop me. I don't want to be stopped and that starts to make this final.

"No one cares about me. No one ever cared." I say swallowing the lump in my throat.

I fall back to the day she died. I seen her two weeks before that ugly Monday morning. I spent five days with you after not seeing you for an entire year. We went to the festival they have every August downtown. Spent the day there and it was fun. But the days went by fast and it was time for me to leave.

I hugged you one last time when I said goodbye standing by the door. I had to leave early to catch my bus back home even though I didn't want to at the sight of the sadness in your eyes. You wanted me to never leave your side but I couldn't stay. I had to get back home I said but I'd visit again. I said I would call you when I got home safe after the two day trip back to the middle of nowhere.

I really didn't want to leave. I wanted to say I'll go change my ticket to spend more time with you. I almost did until I thought about what took place that previous night. I told myself I couldn't stay and watch you kill yourself.

I keep replaying that day over and over in my head. Trying to keep your voice and the feel of your hug alive in my memory. And then the last conversation we had comes into my head. I can't go a day without remembering it.

I feel like darkness is surrounding me I can't breathe mom. I wonder if that's how you felt struggling for years in your depression. I'm sorry I was such a difficult kid growing up. I'm sorry we argued over stupid little things and I hid myself in my room. I wish I could take back all those days as a teen I rebelled and hurt you. I wish we had a better relationship. I really wish I could change the last conversation we had before you left.

Our last phone call you were too busy to talk to me. You had things to do when all I wanted at almost twenty for you to talk to me. I wanted just another minute, another second of your time to hear your voice. I missed you. I missed the happy person I thought you were when I was little. I wanted the old you back but you had to say goodbye and a quick 'I love you'.

I replied stubbornly with a 'Yeah bye' and I regret it to this day.

But I didn't know. I wish I knew that would be our last conversation we would ever have because if I knew...if I knew I would have said 'I love you too mom' but I didn't.

I was upset with you. I was angry you kept choosing your supposed friends over your own child. I want your attention again. I wanted it my whole life but you were lost before I was born.

So why can't I leave? Why can't I be with you? Why can't death bring me joy instead of pain?

I'm actually a little afraid of the end. Scared of taking the final step over the cliff stopping because something pulls me back. Stops me. I'm not allowed to step over into the darkness and drown in every sorrow and I don't know why. I've waited twenty two years for something to happen in life. Trying to see the good but there's none. No love. No happiness. Nothing but pain emotionally killing me inside.

I turn around expecting to face nothing. I didn't hear a single person around this late at night. No one usually is. No one knows I am here to live out my dreams of ending my life but she must have known.

She stands there holding me back. Pulling me into a hug I've longed to feel again in all this time. She's here. She's right in front of me, here to save me. She's here and I don't want to let go. I will never let go but then she disappears. She vanishes as she always does and I finally realize her ghost won't stop me from what I am about to do.

I close my eyes as I take one final step and drown in the ocean. I feel nothing. I feel free and within seconds I meet her again. I see her appear and together we're truly happy for the first time in years.

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