By Reece Wright

March 03, 2023

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[Content Warnings: Suicide]

Something’s missing. There’s a big black hole in my body that won’t go away. The hole makes me wake up every day and wish I was someone else. It’s not my fault that the hole is there. It welcomed itself into my life when I was born. Every time I feel pretty, the hole shows me someone prettier–a silent reminder that I’m unappealing. I’ve started carrying the hole in a suitcase to make it more comfortable. Now it’s easier to deal with, but it still won’t go away.

My body feels bad, and hole knows. It whispers, “Your body is disgusting. Get rid of it.” I’ve already tried to get rid of my body, but I have nowhere to hide it. My soul is rotting, and hole scolds me, “You are a bad person, you are selfish and exceedingly bad.” Me and hole had an ugly conversation and now it is mad at me. I don’t know why, though. Maybe it was what I said.

‘I think today’s gonna be a good day!’

‘What if you die?’

‘Well, I- I won’t!’

‘What if all your friends secretly hate you?’

‘They- they don’t!’

‘What if your mom died while we were talking-?’

‘STOP!’

Somewhere between now and when I met hole, I think I died; or forgot to be born. Hole has consumed my life and I am getting curious about who I am. Am I smart? Am I funny? Am I pretty? Hole tells me I’m none of these things, I’m the opposite. All of my friends have left me because they think I spend too much time with hole. They don’t understand. What am I supposed to do? They all met their happiness and spend quality time with them, so why haven’t I met mine? I spent ninety percent of my life with hole; I can’t remember the ten percent missing. Still, I dream of meeting my happiness, not a lover, but a blissful feeling.

I’m 17 now and hole hasn’t aged, it has grown bigger in the past few years. It lies within every fragment of my body, so it hurts to move. Tonight I barely make it into the tiny bathtub that’s crammed into my family’s household bathroom. My bones ache and creak because hole doesn’t feel like moving. As I glance at the knife that I dropped on the floor, the clearness of the water is transforming–becoming a crimson shade of red. My family is breaking down the door and clutching my body, but I can’t feel them. Nurses are swarming the bathroom and suddenly I feel an icy sting crescendoing up my spine. My body feels weightless and I can hear hole’s guttural, “Finally.” The lid of my eyes is heavy and unmoving. All the pain that hole gave me is gone, melted away. I make out a sharp, “Sweetheart, I need you to keep your eyes open,” but it sounds faint and far away. I’ve kept my eyes open long enough, probably too long. The soul I forgot to water is withering away like a neglected plant–packing its bags and leaving. My brain is dusting off old memories to showcase them to me one last time. Hole is already gone and I’m hurt that it didn’t leave a note or say goodbye. After all, I’m dying, but what does it matter? I’m just another aimless body that spent their life being nothing. The nurses and doctors are doing their best to help me; to save my dead body. But I don’t want to be saved. My last thought was again of the only thing I think about: my happiness. With a final inhale of hot, bitter air, I close my eyes. My heartbeat is slow, almost gone and ultimately yet, so am I. After I drift away, I see it. I see it! My happiness. It’s gorgeous. It grabbed my face to kiss me and whispered, “I’m glad I get to meet you.” I’m finally with my happiness and I’m overjoyed but now I’m wondering, thinking. I was never happy, at least until I was dead.

Reece Wright

Reece Wright is an African American High School student from Fort Worth, Texas. She enjoys writing about topics that have power and purpose, and can leave an impact on people. Reece began pursuing theater and took an interest in writing while attending Fort Worth Academy of Fine Arts. She hopes that her literary contributions will inspire youth and young adults to open their minds to limitless possibilities.