Forgive me.

It's 3:46 AM, and I just wrote a... Suicide note?
She's a made up character, don't worry. If anyone out there are called Raven or Gwyn Wylder, then I'm sorry.
Basically, this is just a suicide note of a girl. I can't tell you much about her or her family. All I know, is that she's 23 years old, named Raven Wylder, and she's sick. I don't know what's wrong with her, but she's going to die, and her body is aching. On top of that, life isn't treating her nicely.
She has a little sister named Gwyn. Gwyn has amazing talents. I don't know what her talents are, or how old she is, but she's going to show her talents to a bunch of people soon, and Raven is very sorry she's not there to see her.
I don't know what Raven's mother is called, or how old she is. But she's ignored Raven every since Gwyn came along with her talents, and that has made Raven very sad.

There isn't much story-wise to this. I'ts more of an experiment, but please enjoy it anyways. Also, please forgive me for the bad cover.


1. Forgive me

Hello, to whoever might be reading this.

My name is Raven Wylder. I’m 23 years old, and tonight, I say goodbye. People will tell me, that I’m still young, and should continue onwards. That it’s not worth saying goodbye. Not yet, anyways. Especially not like this. But I don’t care. I may only be 23, but I’ve seen enough. It’s over. I’ve been tortured. I’ve suffered. I want to live, not just survive. But it’s not possible. I’ve tried to heal. I’ve tried to recover. But my scars are too deep, and a simple sweater won’t cover them anymore.

To my mother,

I’m sorry. I don’t want it to end like this, but I can’t take it anymore. I’ve tried to contact you, but you seem to ignore me and my problems. I don’t know if it’s because it’ll hurt you and wonder-child’s reputation, or just because you’re a horrible mother. I’ve tried to love you, but ever since Gwyn came along, I’ve just been “the other child”. And I’m even the oldest. Growing up with a little sister with such talents is very hard. You get very jealous, and pushed aside. And you don’t seem to realise how hard it’s been for me.

To Gwyn,

My dear, sweet little sister. I love you. I love you so, so much. I know I’ve been very jealous of your talents, but don’t give up. It’s been very hard growing up in your shadow, but now that I’m gone, you don’t have to worry about me anymore. Now that I’m gone, I won’t bother you anymore. No more talk about “the other child”. I know all this can sound very harsh, but don’t go forever thinking I hated you. I loved you more than anything in this world and I’d walk to the end of the world and back, just for you. But it’s just too much now. You go out there, and show the world how fantastic Gwyn Wylder is. I want you to play every song with passion, and make me proud. I will be watching from above, protecting you. I love you, and trust me; the hardest part of this is leaving you.

Some would think I had more people to talk to, but I don’t. I have nobody. I have “friends” who talk behind my back, an ex-boyfriend who nearly killed me, and somewhere out there, I have a father. I’ve only met him twice in my life, and I don’t know where he is now. I hope he’s miserable. He can’t possibly be Gwyn’s father, because such an asshole can’t produce such an amazing child as her. I hope he can’t produce anymore offspring. If anyone knows who and where he is, don’t invite him to my funeral. I don’t want to say goodbye to him. I just want to say one thing to him: I hate you more than I can ever scream.

I will go out in my bathtub. Share a good bottle of wine with myself, smoke a box of cigarettes, and then it will be over. I’ve stolen a few methadone pills from a “friend” of mine, and I’ve swallowed them. Mixing them with the alcohol in the wine will be a lethal combination. I’ve swallowed a bunch of painkillers. The room is spinning around me. My body is numb, and I can’t feel the pencil in my hand. I feel like throwing up, and if it happens, so be it. The tears are running down my face, and I’m sorry if the paper is crumpled and the text is smudged. But I can’t do anything about it.

The bathwater is running, and filling the bathtub. I’ve cut holes here and there in my body, and the warm water will keep the blood flowing. Before I submerge myself in the water, there are a few last things I have to say.

I’m sorry. I wish it didn’t have to end like this. I really do. I wish I could’ve seen Gwyn on that stage. I wish I could’ve made up with my mother. I wish I could’ve found some friends. But it’s too much. I can’t take the pain anymore. I was doomed anyways, and the doctor’s won’t help me. I’ll have to do it myself. They told me, that it wouldn’t hurt as soon as the treatment had started, but they lied. I felt everything. My body has been in constant pain, and I have barely been able to leave bed to go to the bathroom. And that’s no way for a human to live.

I hope that people feel terrible. My mother ,for ignoring me. My “friends”, for talking behind my back and ruining their own lives. My ex-boyfriend, for beating me. The doctors, for leaving me in constant pain. My father, for being gone.

I don’t want to leave, but I’ll have to anyways. It’s a matter of me leaving now, and leaving in a way I want to, or keeping myself alive only for the world, and dying in pain in a cold hospital bed. At least now I can die in the comfort of my home.

I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry. Please forgive me.

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