Why I Didn 't Kill You?

We left John’s house and headed back to New Concord to pick up Charlie. On our drive we decided to stick our heads out the sunroof. The best night of our life or so we thought. We made it to get Charlie from behind Crenos Pizza. In the parking lot across the road. As we made our way back to Jake’s we were jamming to music and singing our hearts out on the way back to Jake’s house.

Brutal terror engulfs me nightly as I struggle to sleep. As I close my eyes I see butcher knives flashing around me and I open my eyes in terror hoping I’m not living this nightmare again. My life has become terror and pain which I cannot escape from, a daily torture that will not subside. I cling to the hope that one day this condition will end and I will have a happy, normal life. I cling to this hope through decades of suffering and carrying a heavy cross; the weight of which I no longer feel for I am so used to carrying it. In extreme fear and pain, I will do anything for relief; anything that will ease the terror and numb the pain. My life spirals down into an involvement in illegal activities for with the money gained safety can

March 3, 2017 6:30, I woke up with the bright sun hitting my face. Sweat was already trickling down my face. The sun was ready for a brand new fresh day, I wasn’t. I knew today was the day which I strove for so long, the day I get to go to Knott's Berry Farm with my “Band Mates” as I called them. Packed my backpack all up with all sorts of snacks, Skittles, Pringles, Tangy fruit cups which I've always adored for some reason, Sour Patch Kids, and the list goes on. I’m not a glutton, I’ll be the first to say that.. I only brought all this because my mother insisted , she didn't want me to get hungry in line or get an upset stomach. I knew that if I ate all of it, I would end up with explosive diarrhea the next 5 minutes though. I had packed my deodorant because I didn't want to smell like a dirty sock basket or anything worse. I brought my eye drops so I can actually see throughout the whole day. There was one big thing that I forgot to pack, something so obvious yet forgetful, Extra Clothing. “How could I forget such a thing? Why won’t I just post sticky notes all over my room to remind me of the basic requirementsf? I said as I groaned with frustration. I packed my what felt like a 50 pound instrument into my mother's car. I introspected that I deserved the trip, 4.0, played an instrument for a full year, did extra credit, I didn't give that year my all though. I whispered to my instrument, “Where would I be without you Tenor Sax? Oh yeah, a full day of doing nothing in

Don’t ask me how I feel, I’m not going to tell you. Talking about it makes it worse. When I explain my pain, I have to think about it. Ignore it; maybe it will go away. I dwell on my fears of what may happen. I don’t want to pass that fear on to you. You don’t see it as I do. It’s not your body; it’s not your life. I don’t tell you because I don’t want you to be afraid for me. I can deal with it. I’ll be OK. I don’t tell you because I know that my words are inadequate. I can’t express what it is, yet I do want you to know (even if you can’t exactly feel it). I want to let you in to my world. I want you to know how different my life is from yours, even though it looks much the same. I’m not scarred or crippled.

It’s a struggle to get out of bed sometimes, I often just sit there struggling to comprehend the sequence of events which have taken place over the past year. I mean, I’m used to this now, its normal to me, but the fact that this has happened and that I am now ‘disabled’ as people would put it is hard to get my head around. And every time I look down I’m reminded of the pain and the struggle I faced, it’s a physical scar which links me to my grueling past, a physical and emotional journey.

Pain is universal. In life, everyone will feel pain; it is inevitable and cruel. Physical or emotional, insignificant or severe, it is there. The pain continues mounting into an unbearable amount of suffering. Suffering that blots out everything of worth, such as family, love, aspirations, and optimism. Hopelessness seizes any will to endure. With no way to subside or control the pain, often one will go to extremes in order to be free of it. Many take their life, in order to escape the horror. Committing suicide is a traumatizing experience for any and all involved. Life is precious. The chance to live is only given once, and cannot be taken for granted. Preventing even a single life from ending early is imperative and obligatory

I felt my heartbeat rising every step I took as the blood rushed to the surface of my skin. My muscles tightened, beginning with my legs as if I could’ve ran fast enough to chase the truck. The image of the man and his words repeated many times in my mind, making me vulnerable to hatred. I thought I was doing something good and just. I was naïve. I thought everyone would gladly give us a helping hand. I looked at everyone around me, and I noticed it wasn’t just me that was burning with raged. I could see the anger in their eyes as they conversed with each other. It wasn’t until a loud voice snapped me out of it. “Do not show fear! Do not show anger! Our justice cannot break that easily!”

““It’s not a question of whether you will hurt, or of how much you will hurt; it’s a question of what you will do, and how well you will do it, while pain has her wanton way with you.”””

When you’re asleep, the pain stops. There are no thoughts or ideas that run through your brain, you are emotionless. I wish I could feel like that now, all the thoughts start to get to you’re head. At times I wish that I could end it, just to stop the pain. But I need to stay alive, to make sure they’re all okay. Afterwards, I can do as I like but right now, they are my main priority. I can't lose them, they are my one and only family. If they’re gone, then i'm nobody. I just need to go, the longer I wait the more I put myself at risk. Even though I hate myself for what i’ve done, I still need to stay

If pain is inevitable then maybe the best course of action would be to have a reason to suffer. Baldwin’s character Sonny effectively portrays this mindset. In a conversation with his older brother Sonny asks, “‘why do people suffer? Maybe it’s better to do something to give it a reason, any reason’” (44). Sonny’s reason to suffer is from his heroin addiction. He is a musician with an acute sensitivity to the dark environment around him. He feels a deeper, harsher connection to the human’s fate to suffer. “‘I’ve been something I didn’t recognize, didn’t know I could be. Didn’t know anybody could be,’ [Sonny says] ‘Sometimes, you know, and it was actually when I was most out of the world that I felt that I was in it, that I was with it, really, and I could play, it just came out of me, it was there’” (45). By creating a reason for suffering, Sonny seems to suffer more. He reaches a dark, low level and alters who he was, loses his identity. Suffering is what he channeled through his music, because of suffering being everywhere. “It filled everything, the people, the music, the dark, quicksilver barmaid, with menace: and this menace

It’s 2001 and bluegrass is playing from a stereo in the back. The room is draped in brown hues, with dark wooden paneling that seems to come straight from some 70’s interior decorating magazine, illumed into caramel by the vestigial light of a sun recently set behind gold-licked Pennsylvania fields and mountains of blue. It’s warm to the point that just a degree more would be uncomfortable, but for now the smooth waves of heat thrumming from a low fire in the hearth contribute to that familiar air of peaceful post-dinner drowsiness, soft conversation buzzing among family. A 3-year-old sits on the carpet. Her ears naturally tune out those words that, being without pitch, bore her. Instead, they lead her to that stereo out of which banjos and clear-cut notes blare, and she sways as she sits.

In this dark place I began to hear people ridiculing me for my failures. I had not at the age of nineteen fulfilled any of the self- actualizations I made for myself. In steps substance abuse to hold me tight and caress my worries, silence the voices if I did enough of them at once. Suicide became my favorite dream and pain my release. During this major depression I learned that not everybody hears voices in their heads like I did. This caused further isolation, to complement the depression. I would often walk to Franklin Park a local golfing, sporting, and general hang-out spot. I went there, with pain stored up and compressed in my body, and wait behind the tall trees with a knife in my hand. My intention as usual was to cure my pain by afflicting pain on others. Pain on pain makes pain less painful. This went on for months until one night on the bus ride home from

The pain was overpowering, but I couldn't let it take hold. I couldn't let it bury me. My thoughts were racing, but I had to make it go away. I couldn't let it break

“Your touch got me looking so crazy right now”(Beyoncé (Ft. Jay Z)). This lyric relates to Adam because of the quote, “But as soon as my fingers close around Mia’s...I could linger here forever”(Forman 56). (This was a long quote, so I used an elipsus). This proves that Mia and Adam have something special and even the simplest touch of Mia’s hand makes Adam get a feeling inside him. He felt and alacrity when Mia touched his hand. He knows that he should be with her because she makes him the happiest and gives him a feeling that no one else can give him. All in all, Mia gives Adam the feeling that he is crazy in

As a child I frequently made up little songs, and there seemed to be a constant stream of music in my head. I could see myself in the children she was observing and like them I didn’t have a framework for my experience – it was just my life. Whether it was singing while playing, tapping out some rhythm, singing at the top of my lungs to a favorite song, or goosebumps from hearing “Hall of the Mountain King”, it all felt familiar and warming. It has also made me aware of the musicking I continue to make every day in small ways here and