Before I begin, I’d like to tell you a little about myself. I’m a very nice girl who loves animals. I care about my friends very much, but people in general frighten me. Feeling happiness was something that I wanted for everyone, not just me alone. I don’t see the point of having everything I want if no else can have what they want. I think about anything and everything that pops up in my head. Even though I’m not very good at analyzing things, I’ll try to make sense of a new situation. The taste of freedom is sweet and bitter. Freedom comes with choice and responsibility. Choices are made while considering the aspects of a situation. Responsibility should be taken after making a choice. At least, that’s how I’ve always seen it.
I’ve never really wanted much. Just sweet and simple happiness. Not just for me… My friends, my family, my society was far more important than I was… That’s just how everyone made things seem so I eventually accepted it and lived life that way. I was always trying to accept things when I was never accepted as a person. It was always much more simple to give than to receive. And that’s what I did. I gave everything away just to see a few people smile. It was the only thing I could do to feel like I had some sort of purpose. But it never lasted too long. Then again, nothing can last forever. Although I’d like to think some things did last forever, I never could find out what those things could be. But if I new anything about them, I knew love wasn’t one of them.
A few more things about me is that I love to sleep. Nothing is as good as having a night’s rest and feeling great the next day because of it. Reading Is always fun to. I liked to adventure things that could never really happen. I liked it more when it had nothing to do with me. So when I tried to put all of these things together, I got disaster. No one ever felt the same way that I felt about them. Whether I thought of them as a lover, a great friend, a best friend… the feeling was never shared. And I was always alone on things. Anything is better than to be alone. All and all, I’ve been covered head to toe with scars. Not just the ones that leave bad memories… but the ones that leave you in regret and destitution. And with that, I felt that dieing couldn’t be as bad as society made it seem.
My first mistake in thinking this was that I was thinking of having a brutal death. Why would anyone want to die brutally? I thought doing this would make me stronger than most people. But that wasn’t the way to go. Then I began to think it’d be nice to have an ironic death. To be killed by my husband, the one thing I’ve always wanted. To be mauled by an animal, something I had true passion for. To choke on a cheesecake, something I always had a taste for. But those weren’t very likely. So I tried to think of something positive and plausible. Maybe I could be famous in the music world and be murdered out of jealousy. Maybe I could become a great artist, die of a natural cause, and leave behind my works. Then I felt like I was just begging for attention.
So I then realized that it doesn’t have to take a knife or a rope or fire to end everything that I once loved. Overdosing was always something I heard about. Teens would do it, adults would do it… seems as if it was always an option for people, except for me. But why couldn’t it be? It could’ve been from the start… I just hadn’t thought about it. So I held the empty bottle in my hand. I didn’t count how many I had swallowed. All I knew was that the only thing I had to do now was sleep, and I loved to sleep…
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The Lost Story of Kat
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