This post is in honor of Mental Health Week. Ava is dealing with depression and lack of self worth. She seems to believe everyone would rather do without her and her death is the only solution to her problems.

Ava stared at herself in the mirror one last time and sighed. Why couldn’t she be pretty or fun or smart or talented or at least thin. Life was unfair.
Sometimes it just pissed her off. And people never stopped letting her know it.

She gets she’s plain and fat. She gets she barely makes it out with a 50% on her school work. She gets her sister is the definition of a perfect daughter. If you looked up perfect in the dictionary you’d see her picture and if you looked up what not to be you’d see Ava’s picture .She gets all these things. Hell she battles with these facts everyday wishing they weren’t so. So what’s everyone’s problem. Why do they always have to point it out like its her fault. Its her fault she got all her parents recessive genes. It’s her fault she isn’t creative or its her fault she has no rhythm, balance and sense of direction or her fault she never seems to stop eating (ok maybe this is stretching it but dammit she’s on a roll ). But really at the end of the day it seems the harder she tries to fit into everyone’s expectation of who she should be the more complaints are added to her already long list of faults. She sees the disappointment on her parents’ faces when she sits down for breakfast.
Of course the bus driver left her. Again. On purpose.
She doesn’t miss the disgust on her form teacher’s face either as she hands her a detention card after all she sees it everyday. She also doesn’t miss the purposeful segregation of her mates from her. It’s a clear path from homeroom to her locker. She’s so insignificant the bullies don’t bother her. It’s like she’s invisible. It’s a wonder she survived this long. But not to worry her trusty bottle is finally full. She’d finally answered the most important philosophical question. Is life worth living? And tonight she’d answer that question. Tonight she’d empty that bottle. Pour every single tablet down her throat.

She almost wished she believed in ghosts so she’d be able to watch after. To see her parents faces turn white when they saw her lifeless body. To see the horror on her oh so perfect sister. To see the students pretending they were her friends. All of them making up stories that never happened. To hear the principal say “she was a very bright girl, popular with the students, we all loved her so much, we would have never expected this. She had such a bright future” watch him shake his head sadly like he had lost something he truly loved. She almost wished she believed in ghosts so she could see all this. But she’s glad she didn’t because she knows what would really happen. Her parents would see her body, disappointment etched deeply into their faces mummuring something about the cowards way out. Her form teacher would whisper to themselves something along the lines of good riddance to bad rubbish. The students would laugh and say she was a loser anyway. A waste of oxygen. Her sister would definitely be glad. Finally the tumor constantly on her back is off. She’d play the role of a berieved sister wonderfully. So maybe just maybe it’s a good thing she’s doing this after all. She’d do it quietly, right before she sleeps. She’d sleep a heavenly sleep. A sleep that lasts eternities. After all the world would be better off without her.


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