How the misery begins

I felt myself falling downwards. It was as if time itself had slowed down to give Death a chance to brag about claiming me as his own. A sudden splash of ice cold water hit my face, and then the rest of my body as I plunged into the giant lake under the bridge. I sensed that my hand was still tightly gripping the gun, but I decided to keep it in my grasp as darkness started to take over.

I've always had people telling me to 'go to hell'. I know they meant it figuratively of course, but being the polite person I am, I decided I would comply. I've always had this unhealthy infatuation with death, not like I would go on killing sprees or anything, it's just that the concept of death has always fascinated me. Ever since I was a little kid I've thought about death, wondering about whether there's an afterlife or if we end up as ghosts wondering about the earth aimlessly or if it's just nothing, as if we've never even existed. I remember how I was sent home in twelfth grade when our art teacher asked us to draw what we felt, and I drew myself putting a gun to the right side of my head with the bullet flying out of the left. The principle advised my mom to take me to counselling, but by then my mom never really gave a crap about me, and she wouldn't be able to afford drugs if she spent actual money on me, so she just ignored her potentially suicidal twelve year old and got wasted instead.

It only got worse as I grew up, having to move town every few years had taken it's toll on me. I didn't know why we had to move so much, all I knew is that one morning, when I was ten, I woke up and I could barely remember anything. Not my friends, not my school, not even where I lived. That same day we packed up and left, and I didn't have a clue why. All I could remember was my mom's abusive behaviour, my old cramped house and my beautiful dog Sweetpea, but she was sold to another home by my mother. Later on I started having dreams about my past, faint memories and recollections. They were mostly of me at school, or hanging around with other people, apart from that I'd pretty much lost my memory completely. I don't know why, my mom said I must have hit my head or something, and that we moved because she needed a job elsewhere. I never believed her, but I also never questioned her in fear that she would beat me again. I started to feel faint, slipping into unconsciousness. That was it, the moment the abuse and torment would end and the self loathing would stop once and for all. I waited for everything to turn black, preparing to greet death with a smile and shake hands with the devil.

That was it. That was the end. And the best part of it all was that I wasn't even afraid.

Notes

So this is the first chapter, really hope you don't all hate it.