The last time I thought

Ever wondered why people harm themselves? I have. Experimentation may not be such a bad thing you know. If you live to tell the tale...
And if you do, you spend every minute of your life reliving it...for the regret, or the glory. You've come face to face with death. You are never the same.
The point is that everyone is hurt inside. We are all lonely...and searching for love. To be loved. And to love. There is not one single living human being who has the right to discriminate against another for any fucking reason, in any fucking way.
.......
I didn't mean to take the first pill. The throbbing in my head was unbearable... I wanted it to stop, to leave me in peace. The first swallow was easy. Insignificant. No effect obviously, yet anyway. It was driving me crazy, it had to stop, I was stumbling around, my emotions were insane and tumbling between extremes. I took one more. And another. And another. I lost count, but with a 20 pill sachet, must've been like 15 minimum. My world was spinning. What I was doing kicked in.
A series of thoughts... who the fuck cares... this might be the easiest way out. Fastest way out, yeah. Happier for the rest of the world. Yeah...
Followed by... Shit, I don't want to die like this. I don't want my Mom to go insane, because of me. No, I don't want to give up. I don't want my Dad to look back and think he's ashamed of me.
I crawled my way to the stairs and tried to scream for someone, anyone. Now, with the tears blurring and my thoughts out of control and the drugs weaking me I couldn't figure out what the fuck I was doing. I fell down the stairs... too numb to feel any pain.
My aunt rushed out of the kitchen. 'What the hell's going on?'
'Kokko you ok?'
'What the...'
She clutches the empty packet. 'Don't tell me you...'
Tears filled her eyes. 'No...it's not that bad is it. Oh, I hate you for this. I hate you so much'
She hugs me and lifted me, I was limp and barely consicious. 'Dhontha!'
Her husband came running in, my mom in close pursuit. 'Eyyy!'
'Balaaennu. Gendhebala eyna matchah. Mamma, bavaanee fahun, aan eyna habeyha beys boegen eyothee. Reethi vejjenu.'
My uncle 'Lonufenboandhee. Hodu lavvabala'
A girl runs up with a glass of salt water from the salt water tap. Oh yum. They shoved it down the throat.
'Acheedi'
I threw up all over the place. Couldn't care less.
'Kaleyakah nethey etchekey kiyey kah'
Fine...
I spent the whole night, shivering, sweating and convulsing... the back arching... the stuff that had gotten into my system was messing me up bad. I didn't want to die... fucking hell... I didn't want to die like this.
I calmed down a few hours after sunrise. The whole experience shook me up bad. I was shaking for the rest of the day. Even as I sat down to do my GCSE Papers, and as I wrote down answers that contained logic far beyond myself (and probably the examiner'd understanding as well) my whole body shook.
A day later though, I was partying and laughing. Who knew? Who cared. My parent's thought I was studying. Like hell. The last thing I wanted to do was think.
Look what happened the last time I did...
I'm not writing this because I don't have an ounce of eeman therikan, or moral fibre or whatever, because I do. I wish people could view things from another perspective rather than stereotype every one and every situation. The way they wre 'programmed' to do.
I would never try to kill myself because I have found reason to live, but some people are not that lucky. It's not fair to them or their memory to dismiss their death with cruel words. It was a sacrifice we are meant to learn from, that we need each other, people need people. Wish they realised that people are too selfish to give a fuck.
Trouble is though... if that truly happened I have a funny feeling I wouldn't tell any one.I would just lie there.... and await my fate. Worrying, isn't it?