Not my day to die.
Contributor
Written by
Rheanna Raynes
March 2013
Contributor
Written by
Rheanna Raynes
March 2013

Not my day to die.

When your 15 you feel all alone.  Nearly all teenagers do at some point.  They battle the bullies, they battle their parents, they even battle with themselves.  Sometimes, the demons inside are bigger than the child is.  The noises in your head are so load.  The voices, your voice, their voice, they can’t be silenced.  The walls are closing in, there is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. 

 

You slam the door and yet they keep coming.  You try to drown the noise with music.  You turn it up load, and louder and then louder again and still they are there, now sing their words to you through your favorite songs, twisting them to say what they want you to hear.  “That’s not right,” you scream to no one… “that’s not how the song goes,” and yet it still plays on.  You cover your head with pillows to drown them out and they seem louder than ever. 

 

You run into the shower to wash the fear away and yet it wraps tighter around you.  The water is hot and burns your skin, the steam is suffocating you from the inside and the voices still call you.  Their words piercing your heart like a razor.  You slid down the walls of the shower and cry hard.  “Please, Please stop, it hurts so much.”  You cry at them.

 

Strange, they seem to have heard you.  Their voices are softer now, not so harsh.  Yet the words they are speaking seem to be wanting you to do something you never thought you would.  Pushing but softly now.  You rise, grab a towel and still dripping, follow their lead.  They guide you down the stairs and into the room of your parents.  You look around wearily at this strange place.  You’re not allowed in here and yet you know right were your headed.  They are now pulling you towards the closet doors and your dads top shelf.  You stop and ask them if they are sure this is your destiny.  “Is this it?”  Is this all god had planned for you?   You can now feel them pushing at your back, moving you forward towards the shelf.  You reach in.   You know what they want you to find and you can feel it, right where it should be.

 

As you pull it out, a flash of you father races in.  You know how to use it.  He taught you well. You know that at this distance you will not miss the target.  You click it open, and see that Yes, it is loaded. You push the cylinder closed and hear it latch shut.  The voices are so faint now, yet the intent is still clear.  You ask them again, “Is this all that was meant for me?”  This time they say, “you will see.”  You take a deep breath, you hold the gun at your temple, as the tears begin to roll down your face.  You breath deep again, squeeze your eyes shut tight and say as your pull the trigger, “this will not hurt for long.”

 

You hear the click, load in your ear, but nothing happened.  You open your tear filled eyes, look down and know you are still standing, there’s no blood, no pain… and no bullet.  What happened?  You slowly pull the gun down and look at it strangely.  That should not have happened.  It’s loaded, the safety is off, yet it did not discharge.  Why god?  You realize the voices are gone but you clearly know the answer. 

It is not your day to die. 

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Comments
  • Leah J. Hans

    Wow...beautiful as always, bella...I adore it!  I've been dying to read new stuff of yours, and I'm so thrilled to have come across this!  Spectacular!  

    (Just a few minor grammatical things, but still absolutely amazing!)  

    Congratulations on another magnificent literary triumph!  ♥ 

    Love always,

    ~♥Leah♥~