I experienced the most amazing and most destructive days of my life not too long ago.
November 17, 2011
I wasnít really paying attention until I heard, ďput a gun in her mouth and pulled the triggerĒ.
Iím sitting with nineteen other classmates about to witness an autopsy. As excited as I was, I knew in the back of my mind that this probably would not be very good for my mental health.
There were two bodies that day. A seventy three year old white male, who had gotten into a car accident. A thirty nine year old white female who essentially ďput a gun in her mouth and pulled the trigger.Ē
They began the autopsy of the male, but I couldnít take my eyes off her. She was dead, lying on the metal table, still fully clothed, with blood all over her face and body. I overheard they had finished the autopsy of the male. I thought that was rather quick. They had cut him open, taken out his pacemaker, and closed him back up, ruling his death a death of natural causes. A heart attack probably.
I still couldnít take my eyes off her. I was drawn to her. I didnít exactly feel sorry for her though. Itís not because Iím a mean person, but that I envied her. It was only two months earlier that I had a plan to shoot myself. The only reason I didnít was because I didnít know how to buy a gun.
I wonít share the dirty details of the autopsy but like I said, it was the most amazing thing Iíve ever seen.
Another student during the autopsy said, ďHow could she do such a stupid thing?Ē and not in a sad tone. She literally thought this girl was fucking stupid and a waste of time. I however thought she wasnít stupid. I thought she was courageous. I longed to trade places with her.
Since then on I have thought about death and suicide many times. It isnít normal, I know. I guess when I really think about death, a whisper of fear is always there. I donít want to fear death anymore. I want to welcome it. Now when I think about it, I see her face. I see the dried blood and matted hair. I see the shattered teeth and the small hole in the back of her head. I see her eyes, green, staring right at me. These things should scare me, but they donít. These images only make me want death even more.
Although I know this is not normal and I know I need help, I donít tell a single soul. This is my secret and I will keep this secret until the day I die, whether that day comes tomorrow or not until Iím old. Whether Iím taken by natural causes, cancer or even an accident, or whether my life has been taken by myself, I will keep this secret. And this secret will destroy me, little by little. And I canít get out.