"Why do you want to kill yourself, miss?"
Oh, shut up. Like there's a general reason.
I say nothing, and stare at the meaning
of the office codes behind him.
If I shout a code blue
when they come for me at night,
will you be there?
"Are you with me? You seem
a little distracted today. Would you like to
talk about what's on your mind?"
Mark would definitely be proud of
"It's been a month and you've not said
a word. You know I can't help you
if you don't speak, right?"
"Can we reschedule until you're ready
"I need you to write on this journal everyday,
until our next session. Is that okay?"
A slight nod. He changed tactics.
I'm impressed, but I'm not writing.
"Good. I believe we'll make progress."
I need you to understand that you’re safe.
Okay? No one would hurt you.
I’ll always be here. Always."
"Thank you. I hope you stay; they all leave in the end."
"I won't, I promise."
Diagnosis: Grade 4, ovarian cancer.
Wouldn’t make it through chemotherapy
because of severe diabetes.
I hold her fragile hand in the hospital bed
as machines beep endlessly,
holding off the inevitable.
"You said you'll never leave," I whisper.
Her eyes flickers open, she smiles:
"I'll never leave you, baby.
You have to believe me."
"But you're dying."
A slight shake of head. "I'll always be alive,
for and with you. I'm here."
Funeral, tears & tributes.
'I am safe' slips through the sand.
You're not safe
Not all dead bodies,
in body bags
The sniper feels heavier in my pocket
now that I know I'll do it.
The world would be quiet when you die.
I wake up. Again.
I'm going to kill my therapist
so everyone wins in the end.
Happily ever after
means the story never ended.