A place for my head

Since she was eight years old Beth's parents had been separated. Her
dad still visited the new house ate weekends until Beth was twelve. She
was told that he didn't live at the new house because he had to sell
the old one. Then when Beth reached twelve her parents divorce came
through.
Over the years her mind had become full of painful memories, but it was
not those that brought her to tears. It was the fact that she struggled
so hard to remember the good times, and that she always ended up in
such a state trying to.
More and more memories came back to her between the ages of twelve and
fourteen. By this stage the memories were becoming almost unbearable.
She threw herself into her work and her friends, trying to avoid the
memories.
Forever she pushed the memories to the back of her mind, and kept the
not so distant past locked away.
Three months after her fifteenth birthday she finally caved in. the
memories would be suppressed no more, and the darkness finally took
hold.
Her world had fallen apart, when her friends turned their backs on her.
She stopped trying to forget the memories, instead she added to them.
More flooding back into her mind as more were built with them.
She started to live in a new crazed world. Lies and deceit became her
reality. Blades and flames became her friends. Still, to the outside
world she appeared stable, even her mum was fooled by the mask of lies.
She made new friends to trust and found more work to do. Inside her
mind was failing and her soul was fading into self-pity and hatred.
This hatred was not for the world or the people that had done her
wrong, but a deep burning anguish and revulsion for herself.

She woke up one Saturday morning, her mum and step-dad were still
asleep. She could her him snoring as she opened the door, and stumbled
out into the bathroom.
Beth turned on the hot tap on, so it was flowing quite slowly. Gently
she put the plug in and listened to the water collecting in the sink.
She forced herself to the airing cupboard and took out a clean blue
flannel and a small white towel. She moved back to the sink, dropped
the towel softly to the floor and dipped the flannel in the half full
sink. She watched as the water bled into the flannel, giving it a new
lease of life. That's what Beth wanted, a new life.
The hot tap squeaked as she turned it off. Beth wet her face with the
water, the burning feeling shocked her, and then she lifted her face
slowly, level with the mirror on the bathroom cabinet. A look of
disgust quickly appeared on her face. She looked tired, Beth always did
now days. The night really took it out of her. Her body just couldn't
take the hours she spent crying herself to sleep. Beth knew this night
was particularly bad, she sighed, knowing it would only get worse as
the night went on, and as her life went on. Her mind was coasting the
lessons at school and she was hardly ever out with her friends anymore.
The 4am average of falling to sleep and waking up at 6am was really
taking its toll. The floods of tears just made it worse, and the lack
of appetite didn't help much either. Beth had lost weight and was
always tired and irritable now. She never seemed happy or fully
awake.
Beth took the soap and flannel, she scrubbed at her face as hard as she
could, but the water could not give her the new lease of life, like the
one it gave to the flannel. She chucked the flannel back into the
water. Which had scorned her now, she hadn't put any cold water in, and
she never did. Her skin had become a little more used to it. The brutal
touchier of hot water burning her flesh. She bent down and picked up
the towel, wiped her face dry, Ignoring the pain she was in.
Again she lifted her face level with the mirror on the bathroom
cabinet. There was no change, she still hated what she saw. Beth always
hated what she saw. The hatred for herself; the way she looked, the way
she acted the hatred for that never changed. Always she hated
everything about herself.
This time she lifted her arm and pushed her blonde hair back from her
face. Her blue eyes stared right back at her; a stare so distant, icy,
cold, hollow and lonely. A single tear trickled down her face, quietly
Beth mumbled to herself, as she wiped away the tear; 'I can't take
anymore, I?just can't take anymore.'
Her hand trembled as she lifted it up to open the cabinet, her other
hand griping onto the side of the sink, keeping her steady. Slowly and
carefully Beth eased the mirror along. Then she slammed it shut, she
thought she heard someone moving, but that couldn't be it was 2:30 in
the morning. It was just the cat scratching at the bathroom door. Beth
sighed in relief, she didn't want them to catch her at it. Again she
lifted her hand to open the cabinet, this time quicker. She rushed to
slide the mirror across, out of the way.
Beth grabbed the pills, and rushed to shut the cabinet again. It got
jammed in all the panic. Again she tried to shut the cabinet. As it
did, she turned quickly. Picked up the towel. Pulled the plug out of
the sink, letting the water run down the drain. The same place she
thought her life was heading.
She opened the door, only just leaving it on its hinges. The cat sat
back startled. Beth ran into room, slammed the door behind her. She
listened as her mum stirred and then turned over, back to sleep. Beth
breathed a sigh of relief and slid down, her back against the door,
down to the floor. Beth let the towel fall to the floor, but kept a
firm grip on the pills still in her hand. Beth fought back the tears,
and carefully pulled herself up to her feet. Unable to stop the crying
any longer, she fell back down. Only to pull herself back up again with
twice the determination.
Beth took sometime to recompose herself. She lit a candle, and went
back to check her mum and step-dad were still asleep. They were
sleeping soundly and her step-dad was snoring even loader now. Beth
crept back into her room, the cat followed behind her. Beth watched as
it jumped onto her bed. She opened the top draw of her dressing table
and pulled out a thin strip of metal. It was cold and sharp, the candle
flame glinted on the metal.
Beth held the strip over the burning flame. She could see the metal
glow as she heated it. The tears ran down her face again; both in
sadness and in fear. After ten minutes of heating the strip, the same
amount of time she always heated it for., Beth switched on her CD
player and put her LinkinPark CD on.
She slowly moved the hot metal strip towards her left hand. The palm of
her hand was sweating, but still she moved the strip closer. By now it
was close enough for her to feel the heat from the strip.
Beth forced the metal strip down on her left palm. She flinched at the
pain reached her hand, so much pain but she held the strip down firm
and still. Beth could feel her skin burning and blistering and the
metal strip sunk in. she knew that she'd never forget the sound it made
as it first touched the skin or the smell. But the one thing that would
always stick to the front of her mind was the shear pain that she felt
each time, how it got worse the more she did it and the longer she held
the strip down.
Beth took the strip away and blew out the candle. A feeling of relief
fell over her. For once her mind was clear, empty of all the pain. It
wasn't enough and it pained Beth to no that fact. The pain would return
with twice the whack.
Across the room she saw the bottle of pills, that she had placed on the
floor when she checked on her mum. The pain began to return to her
mind, as the burn started to sting. Beth knew, well thought she knew,
the only way to end the pain permanently; death.
What a way to go it would be, an overdose of pain killers. It would
kill all the pain from the burns that she had done before, and just. It
would also take away the pain from her mind and her heart. Beth moved
over to the pills, holding her left hand clenched gently into her
chest. She tipped out the contents of the bottle onto her dressing
table. Carefully Beth counted out the pills, fifteen to erase the
memory of each year of her life, twelve for the lie her parent told for
the early years of her life, six for the people that had turned against
or hurt her, and then one more for the pain of hating herself. Beth
really wasn't planning on coming back.
She took a pen and note pad from under her bed. Slowly she wrote a
paragraph on why she was doing?did it and then said goodbye to this
cruel world. Then Beth took her diary out of the top draw of her
dressing table and placed it with the note, which she placed in a
purple envelope.
Beth sat on the floor of her bedroom and remembered all the pain for
the very last time. How her dad used to argue with her mum, so much
that he hit her. Beth remembered one time in particular when the
arguing got so bad, she went into the next room, pulled her knees up to
her chest and cried. She could even remember the salty taste of her
tears that she had cried so long ago. She never asked to be comforted,
she coped by herself. Blocking everyone else out. Like she was now only
this time it was forever. Finding herself in the same position she had
assumed as a child; knees tucked in close to her chest. Beth realised
nothing had changed, and blocking people out didn't work. She was still
a child lost, alone and afraid. And brief moment she wanted to
live.
Beth sighed, and then picked up the first of the pills placed it on her
lips and swallowed it. She quickly took the next pill, only quickening
to take the next and the next. Pill by pill slipped down her throat.
Beth kept thinking that her mum would wake up soon, part of her hoped
that she would, but she didn't.
Beth brought the last pill to her lips, and as she did Beth remembered
going to the park with her mum and dad. Everything was so happy then.
For the first time she had remembered a good time, without getting
herself into a worse state than she already was. She hadn't had to sift
through twenty odd bad memories to get to the one good one either, this
was unusual and it would never happen again. Beth pushed the last pill
into her mouth and took her last sip of water, there was no turning
back.
She swallowed the pill, and then went to lay down on the floor. The
pain of what she had done started to rip her stomach apart. Vomit oozed
out of her mouth as she focused on the last happy memory. A smile
formed on her face, as she closed her eyes and slept in the dark of
that cold morning, never to wake again. It was only 3am, she'd beaten
her average of falling asleep at 4am.
As the clock chimed at nine that Saturday morning her mum woke up. She
stepped out of bed and walked over to Beth's bedroom door, she knocked
and asked Beth to turn the music down. There was no response, so she
knocked again, still nothing. She turned the handle on the door, but
the towel slowed down the door as it opened. Beth's mum bent down to
pick up the towel, she looked across the floor to see the cat sitting
by Beth's diary and an envelope. She pushed the door open further, now
she could see a hand. She rushed over to her daughters body. Picked up
the diary and envelope, which read; I want to be in another
place.
It was a line from the song that was playing over and over on Beth's CD
player, the one her mum had come in to turn down and the one to be
played at Beth's funeral; A place for my head.