aussienerd
Don't eat yellow snow.
- Joined
- Sep 30, 2009
- Messages
- 261
- Gender
- Female
- HSC
- 2008
- Uni Grad
- 2014
i do advanced english at the moment and im starting to write a short story and i would like to know what you think of it, and i don't mind if you say it's a waste of time and the shittest thing you've ever read... i tried to attach it but it didnt work so i'm going to copy and paste it
Goodbye my love,
Remember the love I will always have for you. Forgetting me gives you everything to gain. Love, without me you have it all, you deserve a happy life.
I can’t help wanting you but I can’t be so selfish. I haven’t got anything in me to tell you not to cling onto me so tightly when you choose to, and you’re saying please, I want to hold onto you, I’m in love with you, I’m in love.
This is part of the reason why I need to say my final words; I will burden you no longer. I should have thought more of you and not the phase you’re going through at the moment which is me. I don’t know how I got you in my mess but it’s depressing me to see you like this.
I am truly very sorry for everything I have caused for you, you were my darling angel but I am asking you to forget me. You’ll learn to hate me and please try not to think about me. For your own good, save yourself for my life soon will be gone and my job will be done. Please hold on though; your life depends on it…..
This is one of the many suicide letters I have written as I grew older my heart grew blacker and more withered. Time progressed, as did my writing skills, and my suicide letters only got darker but you don’t need to see any of those. What’s so great about this one is it’s my first ever. As to why I wrote the letter and didn’t act on anything, I shall get to that a part later.
I’m surprised I still had this letter as torn, blood stained, and crinkled as it was. Mum found some old books and papers of mine when she was cleaning out the garage yesterday, I’m very glad she didn’t see it. Before I had my breakfast I spent quite a bit of time working out what my untidy scrawls resembled.
Now I’m sitting here, gazing out the window, wishing I was out there with the other students in the schoolyard, playing poker, chatting about the latest celebrity scandal, laughing and telling jokes. Everything I cant do right now. Instead I’m stuck here with writers block and I’m paralysed by the boring rants of Mrs. Cummings old croaky voice.
Goodbye my love,
Remember the love I will always have for you. Forgetting me gives you everything to gain. Love, without me you have it all, you deserve a happy life.
I can’t help wanting you but I can’t be so selfish. I haven’t got anything in me to tell you not to cling onto me so tightly when you choose to, and you’re saying please, I want to hold onto you, I’m in love with you, I’m in love.
This is part of the reason why I need to say my final words; I will burden you no longer. I should have thought more of you and not the phase you’re going through at the moment which is me. I don’t know how I got you in my mess but it’s depressing me to see you like this.
I am truly very sorry for everything I have caused for you, you were my darling angel but I am asking you to forget me. You’ll learn to hate me and please try not to think about me. For your own good, save yourself for my life soon will be gone and my job will be done. Please hold on though; your life depends on it…..
This is one of the many suicide letters I have written as I grew older my heart grew blacker and more withered. Time progressed, as did my writing skills, and my suicide letters only got darker but you don’t need to see any of those. What’s so great about this one is it’s my first ever. As to why I wrote the letter and didn’t act on anything, I shall get to that a part later.
I’m surprised I still had this letter as torn, blood stained, and crinkled as it was. Mum found some old books and papers of mine when she was cleaning out the garage yesterday, I’m very glad she didn’t see it. Before I had my breakfast I spent quite a bit of time working out what my untidy scrawls resembled.
Now I’m sitting here, gazing out the window, wishing I was out there with the other students in the schoolyard, playing poker, chatting about the latest celebrity scandal, laughing and telling jokes. Everything I cant do right now. Instead I’m stuck here with writers block and I’m paralysed by the boring rants of Mrs. Cummings old croaky voice.