Untitled Sad Stories

Mental Health is a big problem among young people/adults. As a part of growing up is learning how to cope under pressure and making life choices. Depression comes along with that.

This collection of short stories are real works of fiction. There made to cut the silence about mental health. I want to explain my interpretation of mental health using fiction to get my thoughts across.

The stories are called Jason, Claire and Alan. Their subjects are Suicide, Homelessness and Depression.
All these things are quite common among you people. 1 in 6 people think regularly about suicide everyday.
There around 600,000 homeless people in the U.K. and around (assumption) 30% are Kids/Young Adults. Be it living on the streets or from house to house sleeping on sofas.
And depression is the biggest problem among Teenagers. We all become depressed when are GCSE take place. We are scared of failure and with the constant pressure to succeed coming from parents and teacher we end up having some form of depression. We are constantly thinking about the Future which also builds on to the pressure. Uni or Work. It’s doesn’t matter what it is. Depression exist and has to be accepted and helped.

The most real of the stories is depression which will come directly from my perspective and my explaining of what goes on in my head. I feel the best way to accept my depression is to talk about it. I’m not overly depressed just pressured. I hope you accept my views and my experiences.

Thanks for reading. A like would be appreciated as it will help me know you have understood. And if you would like to express yourself the comment.

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1. Jason - Suicide

Authors Note

Hello. This Story is called Untitled Suicide Story. It’s very sad this story. Suicide should never be an option. Believe in yourself and nothing is impossible. Make your dreams reality. No matter hard it may seem there’s is always someone there to listen. There’s always some way to move forward. Believe in yourself. Darkness is only defeated by the light. Remain strong. If your needing someone to speak too then I’ll leave as many links to help as I can. People are always willing to help and listen. Speak up now. Thank You.

This story is a work of fiction.

Untitled Suicide Story

“I can’t take it anymore”. Five words. Overly spoken and normally Hollow no meaning or context to their words. What can’t you take anymore? The fact that your life hasn’t gone to plan. Your being bullied. Your parents have kicked you out because your a disappointment. Your LGBT and your parents never accepted you. There’s many reasons. We’re all different and we all break eventually. This is My Story. My Names Jason.

8:00 am - Tuesday 12th February 2017

My Alarm goes off.

Buzzzzzzzzz. Buzzzzzzzz. Buzzzzzzz.

Buzzzzzzzzz. Buzzzzzzzz. Buzzzzzzz.

I grab my phone and cut the alarm. Placing the phone down I look at the picture on my bedside cabinet. Better times.

I pull myself from the mattress. I Can’t Be asked for today. I might not even go. Fuck school. I’ve never liked school. I don’t have friends. Teachers don’t get on well with me. I’m quiet and am rarely in trouble. I never tried to make friends. Of course I talk to people, it’s mandatory. We have no choice but engage in casual conversation. I keep to myself. No cares what I’ve got to say.

I walk to my cupboard and open it to see it’s empty. Where the fucks my clothes. I can’t go to school without my clothes. I look around to see that scattered around the room. All dirty. Fuck sake. I wish mum was here to do the washing. Buts she isn’t just another burden on my shoulders. Selfish bitch.

I start picking clothes up off the floor to see if I can find the most clean top and trousers. I find some and put them on. I grab some deodorant and cover myself in it. Dad hasn’t paid the Water bill in a while so we’ve had our water cut.

I grab my phone of the table and run out the room. Slamming the door behind me alerting my dad I’m awake.

“Dad, we got any food” I shout, “dad...DAD where are you” where the hell is he. “Dad, if your intoxicated again, I swear to god I’ll Murder your ass”

I find him. Lying on the floor on the front door hallway. Vomit lies in a pool around his face. I can smell the alcohol. “For Gods Sake dad” I grab his legs and drag him into the Living room and haul him onto the sofa. I run to the kitchen and grab a bottle of water and some hangover tablets. And run back to him and place them on the small table next to him.

9:40 am - Tuesday 12th February 2017 - School Grounds.

“Jason, nice to see you. Why are you late” I ignore her. I sit down at the last spare desk right at the back of the classroom. “Jason I asked you a question... Jason”

She walks over to me and stands over me. Casting a shadow onto my face.

“This is the 15th time you’ve walked in late to my class in the last month. Jason... why were you late”

I mutter under my breath for her to fuck off.

“What was that Jason” ?

“I said fuck off” I swear at her. Her face contorted with anger.

“What, did you say” she spits

“Oh I’m sorry, fuck off Miss”

“Young man, I will not be spoken to like that”. She says angrily, “I demand you tell me why your late”

“Ok... imagine you woke up everyday to your dad lying unconscious on the floor. With Sick soaking the floor. Imagine having to to drag your dad across the floor and laying him onto a couch and having to clean the floor everyday to get the smell of shit out of it. Imagine then having your drunk father wake up and assault you because he can’t think straight. Imagine your mum walking out and leaving you with a drunk for a father. Imagine your father selling drugs for drugs. Imagine house without water, because your father spends all your money on drugs and alcohol. Imagine having social service and police knocking on your door to tell you that your fathers been arrested again. And needs to spend time in a cell. Imagine having to call the Ambulance when your dad, comes home bloody after getting into a bar fight. Imagine having to look after yourself and a drunk. Imagine having no food and going so long without eating your physically sick. Imagine having to wear the same clothes everyday because you can’t wash them. Imagine my life... then ask why I’m late”

She steps back shocked. “That’s a lot of information Jason”she smiles sympathetically, “come with me”. I stand a walk through the class of laughing and mocking students. She leads me down a corridor and down another. A right then a left. The through a door and another one. Then down a small corridor. And entering a small room with a desk and chairs in the middle. She disappears and later returns with the school councillor.

“Jason... I’d like you to tell me about home” he sits in a chair opposite me.

I tell him how my life is horrible and how my family are a burden and I can’t do it anymore. I tell him how I want to run away and live homeless on the streets. I tell him how I self harm. I tell him everything.

“Jason are you ever thought of suicide. About killing yourself.”

“Yes”

“Why”

“I can’t do it anymore. I don’t have a life, I keep his in check. I have no friends. I have no other family. I have no job. I have no money. I have no water to shower. I have nothing I have no one who will listen”.

“I’m listening. I care. I’ll could help you through this”

“That’s what your meant to say. You’ll go home today and forget about this. In till you get back to your desk tomorrow and se the memo” I say.

“How about this. We get you checked up with the doctor. I think your suffering from majorly severe depression. Your suicidal and your committing physical harm to yourself this isn’t good Jason”

“Your not going about this the right way.. sir. Your meant to tell me everything is OK. Everything is going to be better tomorrow. There’s always light at the end of the tunnel...”

He cuts me off, “I’m going to be honest with you Jason. I’m deeply concerned about you. There are physical signs of massive amounts of stress and your eyes weep depression. I don’t think you’ve ever opened up to someone before. And that isn’t good for your mental health” he pauses before continuing, “your going to need medication and support. Your going to have to be regularly checked on. And even maybe put into social care. Your not living in a safe environment. Now let’s get this straight. Suicide is never an option. Suicide is cowardly. No matter how dark it may seem there’s always a way to turn the light on. There’s always a way. Open up to someone. Make friends. Go out and help people. Have fun.”

We sit in silence for a while. “Alright Jason... I want you to come back here tomorrow. I want a word with you about your father. An update of sorts.”

I get up to leave. I pick my bag up and he stands up to walk me to the door. He opens and pays me on the shoulder as I walk out. As I walk down the corridor I turn to see him put his head into his hands. And shake his head. He Saugus and turns to walk to the table. I continue to walk down the corridor and out into the main hallways. I open a door and walk through it.

WHAM.

I solid object makes contact with the side of my face. My eyes darken and my consciousness almost disappears. The effects start to subside and I see a group of kids surrounding me. They all wear white tile. Their ties are worn loosely around their necks. The form a circle around me.

The first kick make contact with my stomach knocking the wind out of me. I gasp for air when the next kick make contact with my face. I feel my nose breaks. The grinding of shredded bones makes me shudder. I close up into a ball and let’s the kicks and punches pound into whatever part of my body they can find. I start to lose feelings in my arms and legs. My back feels like I’ve walked a thousand miles. I struggle to breath and I can nearly see.

“Fucking scumbag, your dad buy drugs again faggot.”

“Fucking poor boy, you stink like shit”

“You know what water is shithead”

“Why don’t you just kill yourself”

“Your life’s not worth living you low life”

“How’s your mother, heard she shots herself up behind Tesco’s.”

“Kill yourself”

“Kill yourself”

“Fucking Kill yourself”

“Watch your back fuckhead”

I see the blue of feet start to walk away toward the sports hall. They laugh and spit on the floor shoving one another. Pleased with themselves.

I struggle to get to the floor. I feel like a bag of potatoes. My body is limp. I walk to the nearest bathroom and wash my face and compose myself.

I turn and walk out of the bathroom towards the school exit. All I can think of is dying. What would it be like.

8:30 pm - Tuesday 12th February 2017 - Train-tracks.

I stand at the edge of the tracks. Sweat pours down my face. I can’t live no more. I’m told I’m emotionally exhausted, my life a fucking mess. I have no friends. No one loves me not even my father.

I can hear the train approach. Time moves slowly. I see the light of the train approach me 500 metres. I see the first carriage of the train, it’s lights and some specs of what looks like people. 400 metres. I start to ready myself. I can now see the second and third carriage. 300 metres. The train. 200 metres. My life. 100 metres. Worthless.

I JUMP.

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