Blond-Haired Saviour (500 words)

Sometimes life is hard, but it gets better. You are stronger than you think, suicide is not the answer. Don't listen to the people who pull you down, you are important


1. Blond-Haired Saviour

Death is a curious thing. I often sat for hours on end wondering what it would be like; would it be better? Worse? Would it be peaceful? But mostly, would the voices stop? The longer I thought about it, the more I liked the idea – I wasn't scared by the idea of dying, I was almost excited, I was intrigued. But that was then; this is now.

I used to get picked on at school. Every. Single. Day. I was taunted about my weight, my clothes and my family. I ignored it for a while, they said it would get better… it didn't. I had weak moments and I shed blood, but those scars heal faster than the ones that their words left on me. I felt as if what they were saying was inscribed into my skin for everyone to see. It hurt me inside and it showed on the outside. I became a recluse, my personality hollow.

Things weren't better at home. My dad died about three months before the bullying started and to say my mum wasn't coping well was an understatement. I tried to help, but I had my inner demons to take care of. They were hungry. They encouraged me to do bad things. I listened.

On 5th May I gave up… I decided to jump. I just couldn't take it any longer. Living on the coast had its advantages – there were plenty of cliffs to choose from. As I stood on the edge, I wondered if I would be missed – that was the first time I had ever felt scared about dying. I thought about all the things I would miss out on:

True love;

Holding my child;

And sitting on a porch swing, grey haired, with my beloved.

I thought about what the voices told me, and I believed them. I would die alone. I didn't deserve life. That thought pushed me off the cliff and suddenly the water was coming towards me at a frightening speed. It was beautiful. It was heaven. I welcomed it. The split second before I hit the water I saw an image of a blond-haired man reaching out to me with a friendly smile. That was the last thing I saw.


“She’s waking up!”

In front of me sat the blond-haired man from my vision. He gave me a warm smile and I knew everything would be alright, he would make it okay - even though I didn't know him or where he’d come from. My mother walked into the room, and tears leaked from her eyes – she was back. Things would be better now. Death is a curious thing. I used to think about it often, and I still do – mostly why it didn't accept me. I’m glad it didn't. I spent three months in a coma and I feel guilty every day for what I did, but now I get to experience everything, thanks to my blond-haired saviour.

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