I Wish I Were Dead She Said

I wish I were dead she said and meant with all her heart.

As she lay in her bed that morning, she opened her weary eyes filled with tears knowing that she had been given another day on this earth, when all she wanted was to have died that night; to be taken and never returned to this time.  She lay there holding her breath, hoping beyond hope that she’d stop breathing soon. Maybe it would happen now. It didn’t. The burden of living was too much. A struggle each morning to open her eyes, to take that first conscious breath and leave her bed when all she wanted was her grave. Every night when the darkness came she wished for the half-death of sleep to consume her.  She dragged her draining body from her bed and went to the bathroom. She looked in the mirror thinking maybe this morning she would slip in the shower and crack her skull. Maybe today was the day she would die. As she stood under the scalding hot water it barely touched upon her skin. She couldn’t feel the scorching heat of the water gushing over her body even as her skin turned red. She lent against the wall. Why was she given another day? The pain of living was deeper and more painful than taking a knife and slicing lines across her arm to make her feel alive.

Forgive me for the sinful thoughts that run through my mind but I will not commit suicide she said and meant with all her heart.

I wish I were dead she said and meant with all heart.

Her thoughts were consumed with the thoughts of her death; her deep desire to die in this very instance, for her soul to be squeezed out of her body, as she sat at her kitchen table drinking the weak tea she had made looking at the garden. She knew she was only drinking this tea because it would sustain her and maybe take her to her death today somewhere out there.

Forgive me for the sinful thought but I will not commit suicide she said and meant with all her heart.

I wish I were dead she said and meant with all her heart.

This gift of life He had given was wasted on her she felt. She asked God every second, hour, minute of every day that He take her life and give it to someone who deserved it more; a person who desired to live, needed to live; not like her. She wanted the person who was dying right now, fading at this moment from life for them to be spared and her to take their place. I should be dead, she said and meant with all heart.

Forgive me for the sinful thought but I will not commit suicide she said and meant with all her heart.

I wish I were dead she said and meant with all her heart.

She repeated this with every step she took on her way to walk; as she looked past the hundreds of people she passed every day hoping one of them would stab her. The idea of death coming to her at that very moment would have pleased her, dying would have been a welcome relief from all that had built up in her brain. If I cross this busy road really slowly, she wondered and a car hits me then it would all be over. No, she did not want another’s hand in her death. Why could He not just do it? He had struck down many others, why not her?

Forgive me for the sinful thought but I will not commit suicide she said and meant with all her heart.