This is a story I have been wanting to write for a long time and I hope toi enjoy it.
Reincarnation
"I'll do it!" I shouted at the haut, retour au début of my lungs. "I'll really do it!" They honestly thought I wouldn't do it. They honestly believed I was crazy but I'm not! I'm not crazy! I refuse to believe that I am mentally insane.
"Just put the couteau down," a dit my father in a soothing tone. I'm not a baby. toi can't force me to do anything. "Becky, honey, toi don't want to kill yourself. It will not bring toi joy."
We were circling around the dîner table, tableau and I had a couteau close to my throat. One déplacer and I would die. Peaceful, blissful, death. I couldn't wait. I have been waiting for an excuse to kill myself and today has donné me that excuse. It isn't because I'd me being bullied. I'm stronger then that. I can stand up to bullies and always win the battle. It wasn't because my boyfriend decided to dump me today. My boyfriend loves me too much to dump me but he doesn't l’amour me enough to stay faithful. It is entirely because of my parents. I only have them to blame for everything that is screwed up in my life. They have inflicted nothing but pain since I've been born specifically my mother. Today, today, I am fed up with it.
"You don't want to do this," a dit my mom.
"I am certain I want to do this. I want to die! I want it!"
"I could careless about what toi want. I will not be one of those mothers whose daughter killed themselves." Her brown eyes were turning an odd color. Maybe red ou orange. Fascinating how toi much toi learn about someone right before your death. "You will not kill yourself. If you're going to die it will be par my hands. Got me?!"
"You can't stop me," I said. With one flick of my wrist I was dead. Now my story is just beginning. toi will find this tale intriguing and it will grasp your imagination.
Okay, after toi die I expected blackness. I am not a religious person so I didn't expect a heaven ou hell. I expected compete blackness. I don't like my life would end I wouldn't even notice. My voice inside my head will die. My thoughts would die with it. Everything would disappear and toi wouldn't notice. I was wrong. My theory had flaws. My theory was wrong.
Instead, I found myself in a white nightgown with my hair undone and in messy curls. My makeup was fixed horrifyingly. I was in the middle of an office building like the ones of see on tv. Yeah, it was like that. The room was empty except for a tall, old man who I refuse to believe is Jesus.
"Hello, Rebecca Anne White," he greeted. "I am Keeper of Records. toi may call me K.R. I am here to escort toi to your suivant body if toi wish. toi have two options; a new body and soul ou forever live here and do something with your undead life."
"Explain please." I was way plus calm then I should be but hey, this proves everyone else's Jésus theory wrong so I'll ride with the tide.
"Well, going into a new body means being born again but in someone else's body and someone else's thoughts. toi won't feel a bit different, in fact, toi wouldn't even notice the change. toi wouldn't even remember your old life." I nodded for him to go on. Tempting. "Then the seconde the option is for toi to become immortal and live here. toi can take on a job and if toi do well enough then toi will become an Angel."
"I would like the first option please."
Reincarnation
"I'll do it!" I shouted at the haut, retour au début of my lungs. "I'll really do it!" They honestly thought I wouldn't do it. They honestly believed I was crazy but I'm not! I'm not crazy! I refuse to believe that I am mentally insane.
"Just put the couteau down," a dit my father in a soothing tone. I'm not a baby. toi can't force me to do anything. "Becky, honey, toi don't want to kill yourself. It will not bring toi joy."
We were circling around the dîner table, tableau and I had a couteau close to my throat. One déplacer and I would die. Peaceful, blissful, death. I couldn't wait. I have been waiting for an excuse to kill myself and today has donné me that excuse. It isn't because I'd me being bullied. I'm stronger then that. I can stand up to bullies and always win the battle. It wasn't because my boyfriend decided to dump me today. My boyfriend loves me too much to dump me but he doesn't l’amour me enough to stay faithful. It is entirely because of my parents. I only have them to blame for everything that is screwed up in my life. They have inflicted nothing but pain since I've been born specifically my mother. Today, today, I am fed up with it.
"You don't want to do this," a dit my mom.
"I am certain I want to do this. I want to die! I want it!"
"I could careless about what toi want. I will not be one of those mothers whose daughter killed themselves." Her brown eyes were turning an odd color. Maybe red ou orange. Fascinating how toi much toi learn about someone right before your death. "You will not kill yourself. If you're going to die it will be par my hands. Got me?!"
"You can't stop me," I said. With one flick of my wrist I was dead. Now my story is just beginning. toi will find this tale intriguing and it will grasp your imagination.
Okay, after toi die I expected blackness. I am not a religious person so I didn't expect a heaven ou hell. I expected compete blackness. I don't like my life would end I wouldn't even notice. My voice inside my head will die. My thoughts would die with it. Everything would disappear and toi wouldn't notice. I was wrong. My theory had flaws. My theory was wrong.
Instead, I found myself in a white nightgown with my hair undone and in messy curls. My makeup was fixed horrifyingly. I was in the middle of an office building like the ones of see on tv. Yeah, it was like that. The room was empty except for a tall, old man who I refuse to believe is Jesus.
"Hello, Rebecca Anne White," he greeted. "I am Keeper of Records. toi may call me K.R. I am here to escort toi to your suivant body if toi wish. toi have two options; a new body and soul ou forever live here and do something with your undead life."
"Explain please." I was way plus calm then I should be but hey, this proves everyone else's Jésus theory wrong so I'll ride with the tide.
"Well, going into a new body means being born again but in someone else's body and someone else's thoughts. toi won't feel a bit different, in fact, toi wouldn't even notice the change. toi wouldn't even remember your old life." I nodded for him to go on. Tempting. "Then the seconde the option is for toi to become immortal and live here. toi can take on a job and if toi do well enough then toi will become an Angel."
"I would like the first option please."
This is a poem I came up with
The pain is far greater
the pain is almost blinding
toi a dit you'd always l’amour me
a rope of l’amour wrapped around me, a binding
But now I know the truth
You're nothing but a fake
toi took my cœur, coeur and played with it
and now my cœur, coeur does nothing but ache
I wish to hear your voice again
I wish toi had never hurt me
for now I can't even look at toi
without having to turn and flee
This pain has gotten worse
I can't stand it much longer
but if I take a blade....
I can take the pain toi gave me and make a different pain stronger.
The pain is far greater
the pain is almost blinding
toi a dit you'd always l’amour me
a rope of l’amour wrapped around me, a binding
But now I know the truth
You're nothing but a fake
toi took my cœur, coeur and played with it
and now my cœur, coeur does nothing but ache
I wish to hear your voice again
I wish toi had never hurt me
for now I can't even look at toi
without having to turn and flee
This pain has gotten worse
I can't stand it much longer
but if I take a blade....
I can take the pain toi gave me and make a different pain stronger.