Hey guys! First of all, Happy New Year! I was thinking about blogging again, and the first day of 2016 seemed an appropriate time. Below is a short story I recently wrote. This is the first time I’ve ever cried while writing a story. I put a lot of work in this, and I hope you like it. Please feel free to leave any critiques in the comment section. I am always looking to improve my writing.

Rebecca sat down at her desk, filled with images of a picture-perfect family. She turned on the voice recorder, knowing that this was the last time the world would hear her voice, ever. She could already tell that this was the hardest thing she had ever done.

“Hello, and goodbye everyone. This is my story, the lullaby that lulls me to sleep at night. I’m going to share it with you all who love me, even though you shouldn’t. You, see,” Rebecca’s voice cracked and her eyes watered as she struggled to get the next line out. “You see, I am a different person than you think. I was lying, I, as you know me, am a lie.”

“I made you love a lie! I made you think I was fine and I was perfect! But I’m not perfect! I’m far from it. And now I am going to rip your hearts out and reveal to you the beast inside me that is trapped. In my passing, that beast is being shown. I am leaving because I love you all. I can’t stand to hurt you any longer that I have already. So don’t you dare cry for me. Don’t you dare. I am gone because I love you. And I am leaving because if you saw the real me you would hate me. You would hate me how I hate me.

Rebecca sat back and caught her breathe. She hadn’t noticed that she was almost screaming. But then, suddenly, she wasn’t at her desk anymore, she was at the dinner table when she was ten. She was eating with her head down. All that filled her ears was her father’s voice, so filled with hatred for her. He was telling her how much better he was before she came along. “You’re only another mouth to feed! You are the most worthless thing! I can’t believe I was with your mother for so long. Ha! All she gave me was the worthless junk that is you and a long list of bills. I hate her almost as much as I hate you. You remember, all you are is a piece of trash.” She certainly felt like one.

And then, as quickly as she had traveled to the past, she was back at the present. Back at her desk to finish the task at hand. A deep breathe in and she continued.

“I believe that underneath every lie is a dirty truth. Here is the dirty truth under my lie: I was abused almost every day by my husband and by my own mind. And I couldn’t tell you because if I did I would ruin his life and mine. I couldn’t leave him! I told you that my kids weren’t very social and so they had to be home schooled. The dirty truth under that lie? I was scared that they would tell someone and husband would look bad. I wore long sleeves and turtlenecks during a heat wave because no one could know. I couldn’t let anyone in, not while I was living.

Rebecca thought about the times when her husband wouldn’t come home till midnight. She would spend those nights in hopelessness as she added scars to her wrist. There was no stopping her pain; no cure for her anguish.

“You know the funny thing about being alive? It’s that my heart may seem to everyone else to be pumping life into me. But my heart, with every single beat, reminds me of pain. I will no longer give my heart the privilege of hurting me.

“I wish I would have thought of this way out long ago. I wouldn’t have been the burden that I am today. I wouldn’t know pain and suffering. I wouldn’t know what it was like to be treated like an object. Too bad.

And, once again, the strong woman at her desk was a teenager, with a hand on her heart, just feeling the life pulse inside of her. It seemed like everything was painful, if only that little girl could know that nothing would get better.

“I’ve pushed air out of my lungs everyday, but I’ve never been alive. I now know what I wished I had known all along: now may be called the present but all that present is filled with is pain. To keep living is to unwrap that pain everyday. I don’t want that. I am burning that present by killing myself.

Rebecca took a deep breath and finished this last deed.

“So, here’s where I am supposed to say goodbye. But, one thing I know is that every goodbye is a new hello. So, hello to the painless me, and goodbye to the painful thing that is life. Hello. Goodbye.

And, with the clicking off of the recorder, the woman at her desk was just a baby unwanted already, and then a toddler who had been slapped as hard as any strong person could, an eight year old who has seen too much hatred for her own good, a teenager whose life is a mass of confusion. An eighteen year old, free from home but not from the chains she gained there, a grown woman, engaged to a monster that she loves, a married woman whose pregnancy seems to hide her worry. And, finally, a shell of life, too far gone to help anymore.

Hello and goodbye indeed.


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