The Overdose
Wednesday, June 13th, 2012This is a Fictional monologue.
So the day it happened I had had a bad day at school, some kids had picked on me and I just felt horrible. So when I got home I was already in craps-ville. I walked in the door and knew instantly my dad was drunk. Everything was everywhere. Pictures smashed, chairs broken, fabric on the groud… It was really frightening… so I headed upstairs, prepared to be there all night… but then I heard him screaming at me from the bottom of the stairs. He was yelling at me saying I was a mistake, they never wanted me, and that I’d grown into something he couldn’t control, some demon he didn’t want. He swore at me, calling me names… then he said it was my fault moms dead. I knew it wasn’t true but that hurt. It was a low blow. So I stood there watching him as he screamed at me, smashing everything in sight. He had never been this bad.
So when I knew he wouldn’t notice if I left I ran up the stairs, locked my door and cried. I cried for hours. There
was no one I could tell, no one I could talk to, no one I trusted… So I sat alone. Then I got up, walked around my room picking things up and setting them back down. Then I picked up the bottle of Tylonal… before I knew what I was doing I had downed 10 or 11… Then I picked up a pad of paper and wrote a note to everyone I cared about. To everyone who might care. Apologizing. Telling why and what happened. Being fully honest. But then my dad came to my door, begging I come out and listen to him. So I did. I went downstairs to find he had cleaned it up a bit. He sat on the couch with his head in his hands… and he apologized, he said that he just missed mom, and something came over him, that he knows it was wrong to yell, but he felt so alone. So I took a step forward and hugged him, knowing this may very well be the last time I ever did it. Then I whispered “I love you” and turned to go upstairs. I got only about halfway up the stairs when everything went blurry, I tried speeding up but I fell over, and went down the stairs. The last thing I remember was my dad running towards my body, and me whispering, “I’m sorry” and it all went black.
And now I guess I’m dead. I’m talking to myself… but not? And who are you? Someone to judge if I get to live? How should you get that power? I don’t know if I want to live or not. I just want everyone to know that this could have been stopped. I hope you make the right choice… *turn around and start walking away then turn suddenly around*
Wait, before you choose. I love my dad more than anything in this world, no matter what he said or did… Maybe it would be easier if I never went back… maybe if I left him alone he would finally be able to move on… to be happy.