***The Diary Of 16 Year Old "Elizabeth"****
Dear Diary,
I know, I know...it's been a really long time since I've made an entry. Well, you know I've never been very good at keeping up with diaries.
Kim and I haven't been hanging out that much lately. She's still too busy with Tom. We did go out to Dairy Queen the other night though...just her and me. However, Tom oh so conveniently showed up...she claims it was a coincidence, but I'm pretty sure she told him to come there. Watching them make out in the booth in front of the crowded restaurant was too much...I practically puked my Misty Slush all over them both. I was pretty pissed off when I left, but Kim called me later and told me she was sorry he showed up. She wants to have a sleep over next weekend, just her and me...just like we used to. I'm looking forward to that.
There was a suicide in town the other day. A 19 year old girl named Debbie. I saw her a lot. She worked at the gas station I always go to. In a small town like ours, everybody talks.
"...her boyfriend cheated on her."
"...her dad used to beat her."
"...she couldn't pay her bills."
"...she was raped."
Everybody thinks that they know why she did it. Nobody even knows if any of those are true. But it makes for good stuff to talk about.
Nobody understands why anybody kills themself. Fuck, look at me...most people wouldn't even guess that I wanted to kill myself. I wonder what they would say my reasons were for doing it...they would probably have to make up wild stories, as there is nothing too excitingly scandalous in my life. My parents' divorce would be about the only thing they could blame it on, and that's ridiculous. It hurts, but I wouldn't kill myself over that. No.
Why do I want to kill myself though? I look around my beautiful bedroom...I think about my dad sleeping in the other room...the dad who loves me...I think about the mom who left me but still loves me (I think)...I think about lots of things, and I realize that there are probably millions of people who would love my life. I feel like a selfish bitch for wanting to kill myself...how could I want to when I have things so wonderful??
I don't have things so wonderful though.
These things are make up. They dress up and beautify the ugliness of my life. However, at the end of the day, the make up is washed off, and I am left with the true ugliness. I see it when I look into the mirror. I see it when I look at where my life is going...when I see into the future...
The future.
I wonder about the future a lot. I try not to think about the future of life, as it depresses me even more. Lately, I have been contemplating the future of death.
Where would I go if I killed myself?
I was always told that people who commit suicide go to hell. Why? Because they have committed murder...and they also have no right to say when they die...that is what God does. Therefore, they do not belong in Heaven.
I think it's bullshit.
I don't like going to church. Religion often bores me. However, I have picked up a few things over the years concerning religious matters.
God listens.
God forgives.
God helps.
God loves.
If He listens, He should understand the pain that I am going through and how I have tried to fix things already.
If He forgives, He should forgive me for committing suicide.
If He helps, He should want me to go to Heaven so that He can help me...and teach me to help others.
If He loves me, He won't let me go to Hell for making a mistake.
So if I do commit suicide, and I do go to Hell, then God isn't all he's cracked up to be.
Goodnight, Diary.
Dear Diary,
I know, I know...it's been a really long time since I've made an entry. Well, you know I've never been very good at keeping up with diaries.
Kim and I haven't been hanging out that much lately. She's still too busy with Tom. We did go out to Dairy Queen the other night though...just her and me. However, Tom oh so conveniently showed up...she claims it was a coincidence, but I'm pretty sure she told him to come there. Watching them make out in the booth in front of the crowded restaurant was too much...I practically puked my Misty Slush all over them both. I was pretty pissed off when I left, but Kim called me later and told me she was sorry he showed up. She wants to have a sleep over next weekend, just her and me...just like we used to. I'm looking forward to that.
There was a suicide in town the other day. A 19 year old girl named Debbie. I saw her a lot. She worked at the gas station I always go to. In a small town like ours, everybody talks.
"...her boyfriend cheated on her."
"...her dad used to beat her."
"...she couldn't pay her bills."
"...she was raped."
Everybody thinks that they know why she did it. Nobody even knows if any of those are true. But it makes for good stuff to talk about.
Nobody understands why anybody kills themself. Fuck, look at me...most people wouldn't even guess that I wanted to kill myself. I wonder what they would say my reasons were for doing it...they would probably have to make up wild stories, as there is nothing too excitingly scandalous in my life. My parents' divorce would be about the only thing they could blame it on, and that's ridiculous. It hurts, but I wouldn't kill myself over that. No.
Why do I want to kill myself though? I look around my beautiful bedroom...I think about my dad sleeping in the other room...the dad who loves me...I think about the mom who left me but still loves me (I think)...I think about lots of things, and I realize that there are probably millions of people who would love my life. I feel like a selfish bitch for wanting to kill myself...how could I want to when I have things so wonderful??
I don't have things so wonderful though.
These things are make up. They dress up and beautify the ugliness of my life. However, at the end of the day, the make up is washed off, and I am left with the true ugliness. I see it when I look into the mirror. I see it when I look at where my life is going...when I see into the future...
The future.
I wonder about the future a lot. I try not to think about the future of life, as it depresses me even more. Lately, I have been contemplating the future of death.
Where would I go if I killed myself?
I was always told that people who commit suicide go to hell. Why? Because they have committed murder...and they also have no right to say when they die...that is what God does. Therefore, they do not belong in Heaven.
I think it's bullshit.
I don't like going to church. Religion often bores me. However, I have picked up a few things over the years concerning religious matters.
God listens.
God forgives.
God helps.
God loves.
If He listens, He should understand the pain that I am going through and how I have tried to fix things already.
If He forgives, He should forgive me for committing suicide.
If He helps, He should want me to go to Heaven so that He can help me...and teach me to help others.
If He loves me, He won't let me go to Hell for making a mistake.
So if I do commit suicide, and I do go to Hell, then God isn't all he's cracked up to be.
Goodnight, Diary.
