There, a chopper was waiting for us to pick us up. It was the first time i would see such a thing that close. I mean it was like a dream come through. For the first time in a while, i saw my brother displayed his age. He couldn't believe He would fly in one of those things ever in His life. To cut the long story short, we took off from the ground, we had not flown some kilometres away when we started hearing a heavy noise. We looked down nd it was smoke everywhere. The camp had been destroyed. We did not know the soldiers had tracked us all night nd discovered our hide out. They killed and captured some members of the sect, destroyed our things and burnt down the camp. It was a disaster. There was nothing we could do than continue with our journey but it was indeed a sad day for us. At another thought, it was d breakthrough I needed. I've always wanted another life but for my brother. So i saw that as an opportunity to reach out to him and tell him my thought.
I was still thinking about that when a bullet hit sparrow, the guy beside me. Then the bullet started coming heavily at us. The soldiers were shooting heavily at us, we tried to fight back but they were too much for us. Sooner the chopper's engine was hit and we crashed.

Its been 7years after that day when the sun was turned to blood and the ground tasted our blood. My brother and I were the only survival in that crash or maybe the only survival I know of. After many trial and error on the street of lagos, hawking inside traffic and trying out many businesses, the last two years have been highly productive and encouraging. I work with a security agency now with free accommodation and a very reasonable pay. My brother on the other hand was working as a bodyguard to a rich man's daughter. It was like heaven smiled on us until the 3rd of august 2016.

My brother was driving one of His boss car. He was just coming from the embassy where he was given the visa to travel with his boss to the US for a conference being her special body guard. He was alone in the vehicle and in that mood of celebration, he decided to sing out his joy with some new jamz on the deck. He did not even notice the SARS checkpoint ahead as He was lost in his state of celebration. On getting to the checkpoint, they stopped him and asked him to turned down the volume on his radio set which He did and stepped out of the car as instructed. Immediately they pointed a gun at him and accused him of being a yahoo boy, without searching him or asking for an ID. This infuriated my brother who shouted back as them. That was all they needed to let out the demons in them. They hit him with the gun and beat him up. He was seriously injured and brutalised. One of the police men went inside the car to search for money and there He found his ID. When they discovered who He was, they shot him on the spot to cover up their errors, dumped his body at the mortuary and wrote a report that they shot him when He pointed a gun at them. Unknowns to these fools, There was a CCTV camera installed in the vehicle. This captured everything that happened before, during and after the incident.

Today, the bastards are on the street walking free and i am here nursing a broken soul and a shattered life. Day by day darkness overwhelms my heart. And the monster in my cries out the more for revenge, for blood, for lives. I grew up drinking blood and feeding on flesh, i left that life behind to become human and live among men. But that was the greatest mistake i made in life. I should have lived and died in the jungle rather than being humiliated and cheated by the men I called righteous. Today, i know there's no difference between us, we are all terrorists other than they have the license and I don't.

This is just the beginning of an adventure for the beast will always hunt for blood, and Human have woken the beast in me!
I WILL BE BACK!

So, there lies on me a great responsibility. I became His father and mother that very moment and I made a vow by my mother's blood that I would stand by Him no matter what.

To cut the long story short. We were captured along side some other men and children of my age. Probably the only survivors that day. We were taken to a forest which later became their camp. There we were trained. Not in any hand craft or trade but in the art of killing. Yes, we were trained to kill, to take another life without regret. We were made to believe that we were on the right path doing the right thing. We were told the path of righteousness is full of blood and we must swim through. For weeks, they worked on our mind first. Because, when you get the mind of a man, you can bend him any direction. That was what they did. Fed us with their philosophies and made us forget the life we left behind. They made us believe we are like animals in the jungle and everyone except the sects members either want to eat you or set you up. With their teachings and orientations, we lost the value of life. We forgot our identity and history. We forgot about life and think of heaven and the maidens prepared for us. We forgot the value of humanity and picked up insanity. Of course, a mad man is the only sane person in His world, every other person around him is insane. That was what we became. After we bought their lies and gave in to their teachings, they began to train us like a soldier, to believe in the power of the gun and love the smell of blood. They trained us to become a predator and hunt down every other lives around us. We became the generation who took what belong to them by force, for violence is the only language understood in heaven since the days of 'john the baptist'.

One day, the commander called me and told me He loved how courageous i was. He said that was why he spared my life and brought me to the camp. He said He knew i would become a great man among them. I loved what He said and I was happy someone appreciated me and my heart of man. My father always thought i was too young for the things i say. My mother once said, I'm one of their forefathers who came back to this world so I was too wise for my age. But those were rather condemnation than appraisal. Because I loved what the commander told me, I tried all my best to impress him and earned more stars. Soon I was promoted and I had people under my care too. I had people that wait for my instructions to act. By then I was already 17 years old and my brother was 15years. He had also blended into the system. A tougher mind and stronger spirit than mine. In fact He rose above me in rank and became a commander in one of the territories taken. I was happy to see him doing fine in life. After all, that was what I wanted of Him. Their were times my mother's teachings would get into me and I would want to give up the killings but I couldn't just because of Him. I made a vow I would stand by him no matter what. So i knew i had to fulfil my vow till the end.
Killing was what I did best and I derived pleasure in doing it.

One day, I got a message from the commander that i would follow Him to see one of the sponsors of the sect. It was my first time though. I knew they used to hold meeting at some certain times, but none of us or maybe a very few knew where and when. So I saw it as a great privilege and opportunity to meet some great men. And because of my relationship with the commander, I convinced Him to take my brother along and He gave me the permission to contact Him. I contacted him and He was very happy too. Deep down in my heart, I wanted another life for my brother. A better one than mine and that was why I made the move I made concerning him going with us. I wanted him to see reasons why He should think differently. I knew there were better things for Him out there than me. Okay, let me not bored you with all of that.

The day came and I observed my prayer as usual but i wasn't feeling too well. I could sense something in my Spirit. I knew something was wrong somewhere but I didn't know what exactly it was. I left the camp that day hoping and praying that nothing would go wrong. We converged at the stipulated place and a vehicle came to pick us. It was just five of us. The commander, myself and my brother, plus two other guys. My brother and I were the youngest and the bravest as the commander would put it.
We drove some kilometres and stopped by a river side

it was time to stay and fight for the monster we were running from were there starring us in the eye. Yes, the terrorists had started their ambition without much time for preparation. They stood outside our house, surrounded my mum and she was kneeling before them. Immediately i saw them, i pushed my brother back inside but it was too late, they had already seen me. But even then, i wasn't going to run, i only wanted the safety of my brother first. I wanted to fight like my father, to fight for my mother. I rushed at the leader standing in the middle like a ram launching attack and hit him hard with all of my strength. One of the men tried to push me aside and i pounced on him like a lion pouncing on its prey, i held his balls and squeezed it hard, reach for the knife in my pocket and stabbed him. It was so quick and fast, they did not believe a boy of my age could have so much strength but they knew a boy of my age could be that ruthless for they themselves grew up that way. I expected the leader to kill me immediately, He looked at me and pointed his gun towards me but instead He shot the man lying on the ground. Yes, he shot him and ended his misery. He let out a wicked laugh and clapped. I was surprised, i did not understand what was happening, i just attacked them and He just killed one of his men for me, was i supposed to be happy or worried? I asked myself. My mother rushed to me and hugged me. By then my younger brother was already with her. 'I'm sorry' she muttered as she kissed my forehead. I knew that might be the last hug i get before i die, so i hugged her tightly and for one second everything seemed calm and beautiful. The comfort in her arm even in the storm. A strong woman who had sacrificed a lot for her husband and children. She was not just a wife and a woman, she was indeed a 'MOTHER'.

Well, that moment did not last for ever, as we were separated. They pushed my mother away, brought her to Her keels and gave me the same knife i used to stab one of them earlier. The leader looked at me, held a gun to my brother's head and told me to pluck out my mother's eyes. At first i wanted to rush at him and stab him too but he reminded me he was still holding my brother with a gun to his head. With that i gave up the fight. But how was i going to do that to my own mother? He said he was going to kill my mother and my brother and let me live if i did not do it myself. And what will i get if i do it? I asked and He said, 'we all live'. So i weighed the option, i knew i could not live with the thought that my brother and mother died for my own sins when i could have saved them. At least if we live, we can still get a better life and leave this dungeon someday only that my mother would be blind for life. I looked at my mother with tears in my eyes and pain in my heart, i was broken deep inside. She looked at me and smiled and then she said 'do it'. Again she was ready to sacrifice her eyes so that we might live.
'I'm running out of time', the leader yelled. Without a second thought, i rushed at her and put the knife through her eye, i removed it and did the same to the second one. She fell to the ground wailing and screaming in agony. It was like i was going to run mad. My brain was empty, I couldn't think of anything again. Everywhere was dark, the only sound i could hear was my mother's wail. At that time, i felt like dying. I wanted to kill myself but when I remembered my brother and how mischievous His life would be without anyone around Him, the will to live resurfaced. 'Only because of that do i deserve to live', i told myself.

My hands were stained with blood. Blood of two innocent souls or rather one guilty soul and one innocent soul: one of the terrorists and my mothers'. Even though he deserved it, who was i to take law into my hand? I thought to myself. I had over a million thoughts running through my small brain. Before me was an uncertain future, behind me were the guilts of my action, an option of suicide. All of the thoughts did not even make me notice the look and surprises on the faces before me. They were surprised a boy of my age could be so full of courage to do such a thing to His mother. The leader bent over, placed a kiss on my forehead and let out a wicked laugh. He brought out a very sharp machete. I thought He was going to end my misery, and kill me. He moved close to my mother, bent down, placed the machete on her neck and slaughtered Her like a chicken.

I saw blood sprouting off her neck, i became lame and fell to the ground. My eyes was wide opened but my brain was shut down. For some minutes i tried to understand what has happened but nothing made sense. Just few minutes ago, things were normal and then just a blink, everything went gaga. Is this the LIFE people talk about? I asked myself.
After some seconds of a total black out in my brain, i jerked back to life. The lifeless body of my mother was lying on the ground. With blood flowing like river Nile. I looked at my brother and He was deep in tears. If He was too young to understand was happening, He was not too young to know that His mother had just been slaughtered the way our father used to slaughter chicken.

I need to know those in to be able to post more

My name is nkolu and I am 25 years Old. I started killing at the age of 5. The first person i killed was my mother. This is my story........

I was inside the house that day sleeping, with my younger brother who is 2years younger than i am. My father had gone to the farm earlier that morning and my mother was outside cooking. Then all of a sudden, i heard the voice of my mother screaming and wailing. At first I thought I was dreaming but when I became conscious of the environment, I knew it wasn't a dream. I ran out of the House to see what was happening only to be greeted by my father's pieces on the ground. He was cut into pieces like the meat in the market. His legs and hands were separated from the body, His intestines dropped out from his punctured stomach while his head was disjointed from the neck and placed on His body. One of his eyes was removed from its socket. This was how the men who packed his body home saw it on their way to the farm. So they packed the body home for my mother and the whole community to see.

Without saying any word, everyone who saw it knew the meaning and who could have done such. Certainly it was the work of the deadly sect terrorising the country at that time. They were called the 'OUTLAWS'. A group of frustrated individuals who saw terrorism as a way of escape from their hopeless life. They too were initiated by some mean and inhumane individuals( The Guerrilla fighters ). Whenever they want to attack a community, they send signals by killing someone and cutting him into pieces and displaying the body on the road for people to see.

So we all knew what we were into, their was even no time to mourn or cry, we needed to run, people urged my mother to pick the little things she could and escape with her two boys. Though i was little but i was wise. I was matured at that age. I had seen a lot of killings and massacre in the past and we were told right from birth never to be scared of death and to always get ready. So I live my life prepared. Running was what we always do and it wasn't strange to me. My mother had no strength, i knew it. I could see it. She was tired of running, of fighting. Before her was the body of her husband, her love, the man she had been running and fighting with for years, her courage and her strength, i knew she had little or no will for survival in her. Right there I knew the time has come for me to play the role of a man, after all i had watched and learnt a lot from my father and this cruel world since birth. So I needed to be her husband and her motivation that moment. I ran inside, woke my 3-year- old brother. Picked a knife and a jar of water for my brother and stormed out. But when i got outside, it was a different story entirely. Within a split seconds, so many had changed. The world had gone numb, the moon had left her horizon to copulate with the Sun. It was a bloody noon with darkness walking in the day and light hiding under bushel.

Some minutes before that time, i thought it was the time to do what we'd always done; RUN. But no......

TO BE CONTD

Thinking of suicide ?
You’re sitting in your room ~ door locked ~ with a pen in your hand and a blank piece of paper infront of you. Your hand is shaking, and the tears begin again – for the third time in the past hour. ‘To my family’ you write at the top of the page, but decide it’s a bad way to begin your letter ~ your suicide letter. You try again, start over ~again and again, but you don’t kn ow where to begin. No one understands you; no one knows what you’re going through, you’re alone or at least that’s what you think. Nobody would care if you’re alive or not, you mean nothing to nobody.

It’s night, and you slip into bed. ’Goodbye’ you whisper into the darkness. And with that, you take your last breathe and end it all.

No body cares, right? Well you thought wrong. It’s a Tuesday the following morning, and when it’s 7:21, your mother comes and knocks on your door. She doesn’t know you can’t hear her she doesn’t know you’re gone. She knocks a few more times, calling your name to open up. When there is no reply from your side of the door, she opens it and screams. She collapses on the ground while your dad rushes to your room. Your siblings have already left for school. Your very weak mother collects all the energy she’s got which is close to nothing to walk over to your bed. She leans over your dead body, crying, squeezing your hand, screaming. Your dad is trying to stay strong, but the tears escape his eyes; calling 000 or 911 with his left hand while his other one is on your mother’s back. Your mother blames herself. All those times she had said ‘no’ to you, all those times she had screamed at you, and sent you to your room over something stupid. Your father will blame himself for not being there for you when you asked for help, for being away from home at work for long. Nobody cares, right?

8:34. There’s a knock on your classroom door it’s the school principle. She looks more worried than ever. She calls the teacher to the side; all the students worried: what’s going on? The principle then later announces about your suicide. The popular girl that always called you fat and ugly is now blaming herself. The kid that would always copy your homework but treat you like crap ~ he’s blaming himself. The boy that sits behind you ~ the one that always threw things at you during class ~ he’s blaming himself too. The teacher is blaming herself – for all those times she’d scream at you for forgetting your homework, or not listening in class. People are crying, screaming, shocked, in regret of what they did. They’ll all be devastated – even the kids you’ve never talked to before. Still nobody cares about you, right?

Your siblings get home. Your mother has to tell them that you’re gone; forever. Your little sister ~ no matter how many times she’s screamed at you, told you she hated you and stole your stuff ~ always loved you, and saw you as her hero; her role model. She now starts to blame herself; why didn’t I do what she told me to do when she told me to? Why did I take her stuff even when she asked me not to? This is all my fault. Your brother gets home ~ the boy that never cries. He’s now in his room; mad at himself ~ he caused your death. All those times he’d played pranks on you. He’s punching holes in his wall, turning over things; he doesn’t know how to deal with the fact that you’re gone. Forever. Nobody cares about you, right? Right?

It has been over a month. The door to your room has been closed all this time. Everything is different now. Your brother has to be sent to anger management classes, your little sister cries everyday still waiting for you to come back. Everyday she waits for you to come back home. The popular girls have now turned anorexic. They don’t know how to deal with the pain that they’re feeling. Your father has depression; your mother hasn’t slept for nights it’s all her fault. She’s been crying and screaming every night wishing for you to come back. The boy who would always bother you dropped out of school.
The boy that copied your homework now cuts. But nobody cares about you, aren’t I right?

Your mother finally decides to go clean out your room. But she can’t do it. She’s locked herself in your room for two days to try to clean up your clothes, your things. But she can’t she can’t say goodbye to you, not yet, not now. Never.

It’s your funeral. It’s a big one ~ everybody comes. No one knows what to say. The beautiful girl with the big smile is gone; you’re somewhere else. No one knows what to say, they’re all still shocked. Everyone cries, everyone misses you. They all wish you’d come back but you don’t, and you won’t.

Still think nobody cares about you? Think again. Even if people don’t show it, they care about you, they love you. If you kill yourself today or any other day you won’t know just how much you meant to people. If you kill yourself today, it stops your pain, but it pains all the ones who know you for the rest of their life. Suicide is the easy way out – but it’s the wrong choice. Life is beautiful. Yes, it does have its ups and downs everyone has their bad daysSometimes people go through tough times in their lives like you’re probably going through now but bad times come and go. You might not see the light at the end of the tunnel, but it’s there. No matter how hard life gets, never give up on yourself, or on your life.

Take a minute now, and think. If you killed yourself ~ how would the people that love you feel/go through? Can’t think of anything? Well I’ll tell you: tears, tears, and more tears. Devastation. Guilt. Pain. Broken. Regret. Miserable.

If after reading this you still feel suicidal, there are people that can help you. I’m here for you whenever you need me, and I’ll be more than happy to listen to you and try to help you feel better. There are teachers, parents, grandparents, neighbors, adults, councilors ~ they’re all there for you whenever you need them.

I hope this changed anyone’s life.

Thinking of suicide ?
You’re sitting in your room ~ door locked ~ with a pen in your hand and a blank piece of paper infront of you. Your hand is shaking, and the tears begin again – for the third time in the past hour. ‘To my family’ you write at the top of the page, but decide it’s a bad way to begin your letter ~ your suicide letter. You try again, start over ~again and again, but you don’t kn ow where to begin. No one understands you; no one knows what you’re going through, you’re alone or at least that’s what you think. Nobody would care if you’re alive or not, you mean nothing to nobody.

It’s night, and you slip into bed. ’Goodbye’ you whisper into the darkness. And with that, you take your last breathe and end it all.

No body cares, right? Well you thought wrong. It’s a Tuesday the following morning, and when it’s 7:21, your mother comes and knocks on your door. She doesn’t know you can’t hear her she doesn’t know you’re gone. She knocks a few more times, calling your name to open up. When there is no reply from your side of the door, she opens it and screams. She collapses on the ground while your dad rushes to your room. Your siblings have already left for school. Your very weak mother collects all the energy she’s got which is close to nothing to walk over to your bed. She leans over your dead body, crying, squeezing your hand, screaming. Your dad is trying to stay strong, but the tears escape his eyes; calling 000 or 911 with his left hand while his other one is on your mother’s back. Your mother blames herself. All those times she had said ‘no’ to you, all those times she had screamed at you, and sent you to your room over something stupid. Your father will blame himself for not being there for you when you asked for help, for being away from home at work for long. Nobody cares, right?

8:34. There’s a knock on your classroom door it’s the school principle. She looks more worried than ever. She calls the teacher to the side; all the students worried: what’s going on? The principle then later announces about your suicide. The popular girl that always called you fat and ugly is now blaming herself. The kid that would always copy your homework but treat you like crap ~ he’s blaming himself. The boy that sits behind you ~ the one that always threw things at you during class ~ he’s blaming himself too. The teacher is blaming herself – for all those times she’d scream at you for forgetting your homework, or not listening in class. People are crying, screaming, shocked, in regret of what they did. They’ll all be devastated – even the kids you’ve never talked to before. Still nobody cares about you, right?

Your siblings get home. Your mother has to tell them that you’re gone; forever. Your little sister ~ no matter how many times she’s screamed at you, told you she hated you and stole your stuff ~ always loved you, and saw you as her hero; her role model. She now starts to blame herself; why didn’t I do what she told me to do when she told me to? Why did I take her stuff even when she asked me not to? This is all my fault. Your brother gets home ~ the boy that never cries. He’s now in his room; mad at himself ~ he caused your death. All those times he’d played pranks on you. He’s punching holes in his wall, turning over things; he doesn’t know how to deal with the fact that you’re gone. Forever. Nobody cares about you, right? Right?

It has been over a month. The door to your room has been closed all this time. Everything is different now. Your brother has to be sent to anger management classes, your little sister cries everyday still waiting for you to come back. Everyday she waits for you to come back home. The popular girls have now turned anorexic. They don’t know how to deal with the pain that they’re feeling. Your father has depression; your mother hasn’t slept for nights it’s all her fault. She’s been crying and screaming every night wishing for you to come back. The boy who would always bother you dropped out of school.
The boy that copied your homework now cuts. But nobody cares about you, aren’t I right?

Your mother finally decides to go clean out your room. But she can’t do it. She’s locked herself in your room for two days to try to clean up your clothes, your things. But she can’t she can’t say goodbye to you, not yet, not now. Never.

It’s your funeral. It’s a big one ~ everybody comes. No one knows what to say. The beautiful girl with the big smile is gone; you’re somewhere else. No one knows what to say, they’re all still shocked. Everyone cries, everyone misses you. They all wish you’d come back but you don’t, and you won’t.

Still think nobody cares about you? Think again. Even if people don’t show it, they care about you, they love you. If you kill yourself today or any other day you won’t know just how much you meant to people. If you kill yourself today, it stops your pain, but it pains all the ones who know you for the rest of their life. Suicide is the easy way out – but it’s the wrong choice. Life is beautiful. Yes, it does have its ups and downs everyone has their bad daysSometimes people go through tough times in their lives like you’re probably going through now but bad times come and go. You might not see the light at the end of the tunnel, but it’s there. No matter how hard life gets, never give up on yourself, or on your life.

Take a minute now, and think. If you killed yourself ~ how would the people that love you feel/go through? Can’t think of anything? Well I’ll tell you: tears, tears, and more tears. Devastation. Guilt. Pain. Broken. Regret. Miserable.

If after reading this you still feel suicidal, there are people that can help you. I’m here for you whenever you need me, and I’ll be more than happy to listen to you and try to help you feel better. There are teachers, parents, grandparents, neighbors, adults, councilors ~ they’re all there for you whenever you need them.

I hope this changed anyone’s life.

Thinking of suicide ?
You’re sitting in your room ~ door locked ~ with a pen in your hand and a blank piece of paper infront of you. Your hand is shaking, and the tears begin again – for the third time in the past hour. ‘To my family’ you write at the top of the page, but decide it’s a bad way to begin your letter ~ your suicide letter. You try again, start over ~again and again, but you don’t kn ow where to begin. No one understands you; no one knows what you’re going through, you’re alone or at least that’s what you think. Nobody would care if you’re alive or not, you mean nothing to nobody.

It’s night, and you slip into bed. ’Goodbye’ you whisper into the darkness. And with that, you take your last breathe and end it all.

No body cares, right? Well you thought wrong. It’s a Tuesday the following morning, and when it’s 7:21, your mother comes and knocks on your door. She doesn’t know you can’t hear her she doesn’t know you’re gone. She knocks a few more times, calling your name to open up. When there is no reply from your side of the door, she opens it and screams. She collapses on the ground while your dad rushes to your room. Your siblings have already left for school. Your very weak mother collects all the energy she’s got which is close to nothing to walk over to your bed. She leans over your dead body, crying, squeezing your hand, screaming. Your dad is trying to stay strong, but the tears escape his eyes; calling 000 or 911 with his left hand while his other one is on your mother’s back. Your mother blames herself. All those times she had said ‘no’ to you, all those times she had screamed at you, and sent you to your room over something stupid. Your father will blame himself for not being there for you when you asked for help, for being away from home at work for long. Nobody cares, right?

8:34. There’s a knock on your classroom door it’s the school principle. She looks more worried than ever. She calls the teacher to the side; all the students worried: what’s going on? The principle then later announces about your suicide. The popular girl that always called you fat and ugly is now blaming herself. The kid that would always copy your homework but treat you like crap ~ he’s blaming himself. The boy that sits behind you ~ the one that always threw things at you during class ~ he’s blaming himself too. The teacher is blaming herself – for all those times she’d scream at you for forgetting your homework, or not listening in class. People are crying, screaming, shocked, in regret of what they did. They’ll all be devastated – even the kids you’ve never talked to before. Still nobody cares about you, right?

Your siblings get home. Your mother has to tell them that you’re gone; forever. Your little sister ~ no matter how many times she’s screamed at you, told you she hated you and stole your stuff ~ always loved you, and saw you as her hero; her role model. She now starts to blame herself; why didn’t I do what she told me to do when she told me to? Why did I take her stuff even when she asked me not to? This is all my fault. Your brother gets home ~ the boy that never cries. He’s now in his room; mad at himself ~ he caused your death. All those times he’d played pranks on you. He’s punching holes in his wall, turning over things; he doesn’t know how to deal with the fact that you’re gone. Forever. Nobody cares about you, right? Right?

It has been over a month. The door to your room has been closed all this time. Everything is different now. Your brother has to be sent to anger management classes, your little sister cries everyday still waiting for you to come back. Everyday she waits for you to come back home. The popular girls have now turned anorexic. They don’t know how to deal with the pain that they’re feeling. Your father has depression; your mother hasn’t slept for nights it’s all her fault. She’s been crying and screaming every night wishing for you to come back. The boy who would always bother you dropped out of school.
The boy that copied your homework now cuts. But nobody cares about you, aren’t I right?

Your mother finally decides to go clean out your room. But she can’t do it. She’s locked herself in your room for two days to try to clean up your clothes, your things. But she can’t she can’t say goodbye to you, not yet, not now. Never.

It’s your funeral. It’s a big one ~ everybody comes. No one knows what to say. The beautiful girl with the big smile is gone; you’re somewhere else. No one knows what to say, they’re all still shocked. Everyone cries, everyone misses you. They all wish you’d come back but you don’t, and you won’t.

Still think nobody cares about you? Think again. Even if people don’t show it, they care about you, they love you. If you kill yourself today or any other day you won’t know just how much you meant to people. If you kill yourself today, it stops your pain, but it pains all the ones who know you for the rest of their life. Suicide is the easy way out – but it’s the wrong choice. Life is beautiful. Yes, it does have its ups and downs everyone has their bad daysSometimes people go through tough times in their lives like you’re probably going through now but bad times come and go. You might not see the light at the end of the tunnel, but it’s there. No matter how hard life gets, never give up on yourself, or on your life.

Take a minute now, and think. If you killed yourself ~ how would the people that love you feel/go through? Can’t think of anything? Well I’ll tell you: tears, tears, and more tears. Devastation. Guilt. Pain. Broken. Regret. Miserable.

If after reading this you still feel suicidal, there are people that can help you. I’m here for you whenever you need me, and I’ll be more than happy to listen to you and try to help you feel better. There are teachers, parents, grandparents, neighbors, adults, councilors ~ they’re all there for you whenever you need them.

I hope this changed anyone’s life.