And I Hope It Stays Like That

Imogen-Hope is a 15 year old girl who is suicidal and is extremely close to killing herself. But when the popular boy at her school starts showing interest in her she begins to see light at the end of an extremely dark tunnel. But can Alex change her life forever, or is it already to late.


10. Chapter 9


I smiled! Because of him I smiled! He spoke to and showed interest in me and walked me home and I smiled!

As I walked through the door to my house I still had a small smile on my face. I wanted to let my mum and dad see it. See me smile because maybe that would make them a little happier.

The smile was quickly wiped off of my face when I heard something smash and a scream coming from the other room! I dropped my bag and ran into the kitchen from which the sound was coming from.

 I flew through the door and screamed at the sight laid out in front of me. My mum was pushed against the wall her face tinted a faint blue.

What held her there was my dad’s hand against her throat.

His knuckles were white and his face flushed red with anger.

As I began to scream his head whipped towards me and his face changed from an angry to surprised to shocked to guilty in a matter of seconds.

Even throughout these changes his eyes still glowed red with infuriation.

My dad’s hand dropped from my mum’s neck and my mum fell to the floor in a crumpled pile.

Silence fell across the whole household. The only noise to be heard was the sound of my mum gasping for breath.

I just stared at him. At the man I’m sure I didn’t know anymore.

I quickly found my voice though. It was like the words were hot acid speeding through my body before they poured out of my lips.


“Imogen I’m sorry! I do-” I cut him off before he could continue.

“SORRY! I don’t think it is me you need to be apologising too! Oh, but don’t turn now you don’t deserve to even think about her never mind speak to her! I mean how you dare lay your hands on her. You have already caused her so much mental and emotional pain do you really have to stoop so low and cause her physical pain as well! I knew you were a sad pathetic man when you cheated on her but this is on a whole new level! This is low Dad. Actually you don’t even deserve to have the title of dad anymore! You low-life son of a... Do you know what I’m not arguing get out. NOW!”

Anger was clear on my face. Hurt, guilt and surprise was clear on my dad’s. Hurt because I just told him he didn’t deserve to be my dad anymore and to get out. Guilt because of what he did to my mum. Well I hope he was guilty for that reason and not because he’d upset me. And surprise because that is the most words I’ve spoken for the past 2 years.

“Imogen I don’t know what came over me I’m sor-” He began to make one last attempt to apologise but I cut him off.

“Stop! Just get out please and let us deal with the mess you’ve made.” My voice was hushed now. Exasperated even. As I spoke I gestured towards my mum who was on the floor. It wasn’t until now that I realised that her hand was bleeding and glass was on the floor around her. I slowly walked over to my mother being cautious about my every move. She reminded me of an injured animal that was scared of everything around it. I don’t know why she reminded me of this. Maybe it was the panic-stricken look in her eyes or the way she cowered into the corner as I approached her. Maybe it was both.

Silent tears ran down her usually pretty face. The moisture in her eyes had smudged her mascara so she looked a little bit like a panda. Her cheeks were red and I could tell all she wanted to do was cry... or sleep one of the two.

I knelt down next to her and started nursing her hands with a wash cloth I had picked up off of the side.

I heard my father start to retreat behind me until his footsteps stopped.

“I will see you tomorrow Imogen.”

I was quick with my reply it was barely audible but a reply still. “Don’t. Don’t come back tomorrow. Just stay away.”

He didn’t answer he just left and with him he took away the last bit of sanity I had...


It’s 2:30 am and I’m just lay in bed staring at the ceiling. My body was telling me to let fatigue take over but my brain wanted to run over every bad thing that has happened in my life. I don’t realise how much darkness is in my life until these moments. Now I have today to add to my list.

After I had cleaned up my mum’s hands the cut was only small. She reassured me she was fine and that she was just tired. She went up to bed and left me alone downstairs with my thoughts. My thoughts are great company! They tell me that I’m a fat, ugly, worthless, good for nothing little girl that the world would be happier without.

My thoughts aren’t lying though. The world would be better without me.

Your tired Imogen make sure you fall asleep forever. Make sure you never wake up.

For some reason I decided to listen to the little voice in my head. I tip-toed downstairs and went into the cupboard in the kitchen that stored all of the medicines and tablets we have in the house. I had planned this moment and knew exactly what to do.

Almost mechanically I grabbed the bottle that contained sleeping tablets. They dissolved in water therefore making them easier to take. I grabbed a glass from the cupboard and half filled it with water. I dropped the whole bottle of pills in the water

I sat on a stool at the island in the middle of the kitchen. I grabbed a pen and paper and wrote:


I love you, and I promise this is not your fault. It’s just everything is so overwhelming. I’m sorry if it hurts, I don’t want it to. It’s just that I’m hurting inside and I can’t make it stop. But I will repeat this is NOT your fault. I love you forever and always. Please don’t hate me.’

Tears ran down my face and stained the paper in my hands I took a deep breath and grabbed another piece of paper on which I wrote:


I know you think this is your fault. I know you think you caused this. I also know you think I hate you. All of these are wrong. This is not your fault, you did not cause this and I don’t hate you. I love you and yes you annoyed me but I love you. Please still look after mum and make sure she’s happy. Please don’t hate me.’

I let out a strangled sob as realisation hit me as to what I was about to do. I looked up from the shiny black surface of the countertop to see the only picture left in the house of my family. Me, Mum and Dad. We were at a fun fair with my mum’s old work friend and we had just got off of the Waltzers so all three of us had crazy hair. Adrenaline clear on our faces and our eyes wild. My mum’s friend was an aspiring photographer and thought it would be, and I quote ‘An awesome opportunity to get an awesome photo!’

I let a small chuckle escape my lips as I thought back to the memory.  I was 13 then so I wasn’t depressed just yet but I definitely wasn’t happy. Home life was amazing then so that’s why I wasn’t in the state I am now. Back then that’s why I wasn’t trying to kill myself.

I turned my head to look at the glass sat next to me. The tablets had now dissolved fully. I took another deep breath and picked up the glass. It felt so heavy, like I had just tried to pick up a monster truck. I sat down on the kitchen floor. Wincing as the cold tiles came in contact with my skin.

Slowly but surely I lifted the glass to my lips and just let it sit there. Letting the condensation, that formed on the side of the glass, wet my dry lips.

Just breathe Imogen drink it and all the pain will stop. It will all go away. You’ll be free. There is nothing here for you anymore.

The voice in my brain was screaming these words at me over and over again.

3... 2... 1...

I tipped the glass back but stopped before less than half a mouthful could run down my throat.


I lowered the glass again. He spoke to me today and showed some sort of interest in me.

Don’t compliment yourself Imogen he doesn’t like you he was just being the flirt he is and trying to get more friends. If that’s possible.

I answered the voice out loud “Well I have to try.”

I stood up and tipped away the contents of the glass down the sink. I had to try. I had to see if he wanted me as a friend.

I stood up and grabbed the notes off of the counter. I kept them folded neatly in my hand as I clambered back up the stairs. I peeked into my mum’s bedroom to make sure she was still asleep and as I guessed she was curled into a ball wrapped in a cream cardigan fast asleep. She looked peaceful. I love watching her sleep; she seems like the mum I know. Not the sad and angry mum that replaced her.

I went into my own room and got into bed. Thanks to the small amount of sleeping tablets I consumed I fell right to sleep. Images of a certain green eyed boy engulfed my dreams in some sort of happiness.

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