It was a snowy night, it was past midnight and I was still walking down the street, crushing the snow with my feet. My footprints were covered by the regular snowfall. I had been walking from quite some time now yet I didn't know where was I going or where I wanted to go. My vision was blurry and I could only hear the buzzing sound in my ear. I had been drinking, wasting the little money I had. It happens sometimes when you just feel like falling or drowning endlessly. I could only count the building I had passed, the count was 25 and still counting. I felt so empty inside as I continued to walk.
I took a turn from the corner. My hands rested in the warm pockets of my dark brown jacket. The hood of the jacket covered my dark black hairs, protecting them from the soft white snow. My head was filled with thoughts, "What am I even doing here?"
Suddenly, I halted the walk. I didn't want to go home, at least not alone. However, I was alone, I had no one who could help me, it felt so lonely. "There is no need to face reality just keep running from it. You don't need anyone's help." I whispered to myself when my hand gripped a cold wooden grip inside my pocket. I took it out. It was a blade, a sharp one, perfect to cut skin. Now I realized why I was here, I was going to kill myself in a narrow street. My eyes rolled around, no one was there. Who cares if I die? I thought. I just have to cut my wrist with the blade and rest on the snow till it turns red with my blood.
"You don't have to, the next day will be better." I heard my own voice in my head. I slipped the blade back in my pocket and started walking home. I could only hope that the coming day would be better.
"If tomorrow isn't any good, I'll kill myself." I said and walked home. My heart was still shrinking inside my ribs, I was barely able to breathe. I took a deep breath and ran home, tears still not escaping my eyes.