3rd of July – the day we died

TW: SH

“Well, the bible doesn’t allow people like that to live” I don’t think that’s something you can say in today’s society, I think, but I stay quiet. I pack my stuff und leave, shouting a quick bye to a few of my friends. I heard them laugh several times while religion, but I stayed quiet. The bus ride home takes one hour. My expression stays straight, but my mind is spinning. Again. No one will ever understand my thoughts because I can’t either. I just know that it was the 3rd of July when everything changed. I still don’t remember much from the days after, all I know is that since that exact day, I can’t feel anymore. It’s like a switch got turned off. My friend taps me on the shoulder, which is when I realize that she had been talking to me. “You there?” She is waving in front of my face. “Ye… Yeah. What did you say?” She is smiling nicely, in a way most people do these days, every time when I can’t focus. “I asked if you finished the project yet, cause it’s really stressing me out, but I don’t have any time to do it.” I can feel a slight panic coming up inside of me, but in that same moment it’s already gone again. I can’t feel the stress. It’s already gotten to that point where I really, really tried feeling it, but I just couldn’t. “I haven’t finished it either.” Most of the time it’s easier to just show the emotion people expect instead of dealing with the “are you okay?” questions. “You are right, though it’s real stressful.” My mind is gone again, and my eyes are staring out of the window. The ninth stop is the one where I have to leave the bus. My feet drag me away, home, as fast as possible.

I am in the bathroom, sitting on the floor when I crave that feeling again. Like, sometimes I am fine with not feeling, but on days like this I just wish for that kind of pain, for any kind of emotion. It hurts so bad, when the knife cuts my skin. There is so much pain in me and I know I craved that for so long. I can feel it. Every single movement the knife makes over my skin, I can feel deep inside me. And it finally is like I am there again, on earth experiencing pain like normal people. I push it deeper, and it over labs the numbness that held me down ever since she died. Tears flood my face and I have to shut my mouth with my hand, so that no one would hear me sob. I lean my head against the bathroom door and close my eyes to let all the thoughts about her in. They over shatter me, push me down, make me fall. My mum storms in, she heard my sobs, my crying. She sees me. But it’s not me anymore. I am already gone since the 3rd of July. Ripped apart, burned alive next to her grave in the cemetery.