Hope

My Story
Based on true events.
Inspired to be written because of Renee and Jamie.
Written by Amy Jocelyn Giesbrecht.

The floor is cold. My knees ache from the hours I have spent on the wooden floor. The lights to my suffocating room have not been turned on and the sun has long since fallen behind the horizon. The moon shines brightly through the basement window, and the reflection of the moonlit snow lights my room just enough for me to see. Though, I wish I could not as I am sure any one would. I know the scene is gruesome, and that my floor has become a bloody mess quickly cleaned up with the towel I have stolen from the bathroom down the hall. My aching head rests on the metal foot board of my small bed. Long has it been since the seconds of relief have left me and a settle in for another round. I can feel the will leaving me. The will for what, I suppose I will have to figure that out when my thoughts are finally clear. Slowly I raise my head and lean forward the white of my forearm is stained with the blackness of blood in the moonlight as I stretch it out before me. I am shaking now. The reason behind my most resent destructive session left my mind the second I decided to pick my weapon of choice. Now the thin blade shakes in my hand as I bring it closer to my skin. A car pulls into the drive way next door and the headlights light up my room. I scream and drop the blade. The bright red of my own blood is visible now. Over twenty fresh cuts stare back at me bringing on a new wave of emotions. I can feel the fresh tears falling from my eyes, which are staring wide at the scene I myself have created. The realization that this can't be it this cannot be all my life is meant for hits me. Losing balance, I fall back against the bed. My eyelids feel heavy as they cover my eyes, I drop my blade and allow thoughts to come and go as they please. I don't know how long I remained in that one spot thinking, nor do I know how many thoughts came to my mind before my present thought did. 'What of all those who love me?' As few as I think they are, I know there is at least a single person who loves me. Finally I convince myself to sit up. I wrap the towel around my bleeding arm, and start cleaning the mess in front of me. Then I begin my search.

Every drawer, box, and clever hiding place I had was searched and emptied. When I finally have all of them in my hands I walk over the the trash can in the corner of my room. Standing above it I empty the burden I carry into it. Turning around I stare at my room, which has become less suffocating. I walk to then other end and flip the large white switch. Bright florescent light fills my tiny room. I smile, for the first time in what seems like forever. "This is for you." The words come out in a soft whisper, but I know the power behind them. Tonight is a night of change. I know now, I am not alone in this fight. I know the battle in front of me is far from over, but tonight has made me realize I am not alone, and I am loved. Walking out of what was once my prison, I turn out the light on the darkness that was behind me and go to my computer. Sitting down, I look at the screen and smile as a familiar screen name pops up. Once again I say, even if only to myself.

"This is for you."