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I want to tell them, Chip, Kim, there is no way to suicide-proof a person.

Julie Anne Peters

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Julie Anne Peters
Age: 72
Born: 1952
Born: January 16
Author
Engineer
Writer
Jamestown
New York
Chip
Chips
Suicide
Proof
Tell
Persons
Person
Way
Kim

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I don't have to answer. Until you know the question.
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What did she see in me? What does she see that I don't?
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You still have, I looked at my watch, twelve seconds to change your mind. Find someone else and save your reputation. One side of his lip cricked up. I found you. I'll take my chances.
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This is my vision-what I imagine I'll pass through on my way to the light. The blue sky, the clouds, the rays of light.
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Take it as a token. Because tomorrow when I go, I want you to believe friends are possible.
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His invitation lingers. So does my question. Why me? I don't know the answer. When I look at myself in the mirror, all I see is a starving, stunted bird who never grew wings and lost all reason to sing.
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I just want the pain to end.
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No one ever found out what was happening inside me. How the pain was eating me away. No one ever came to my rescue, or stood up for me.
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People don't change. There are two kinds of people in the world: winners and losers. Black and white. I don't know where gray fits in, or if you can even live in that shade.
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I know it's hard on her. If I don't tell her she'll kill me. He pauses. That was supposed to be funny.
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That same piercing screech in her voice every time at the hospital. Do something! When I slit my wrists. Help her! The last time too. Somebody help her. Help us! You're helpless, both of you. All of us.
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Why are people so cruel? What did I ever do to them?
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I wish I could tell my parents, If you want to help me, help me die.
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Secrets. I can't take then with me. If I do, when I go, when I arrive at my final destination, I'll be . . . impure.
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Is that all I am? A friend? Of course not, I say. I love you. Am I the only one? she asks. Yes. Completely. First, last, and always.
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Cut the ending. Revise the script. The man of her dreams is a girl.
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They didn't guarantee you'd come out a whole person.
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That earns him a smack with my book bag. Ow. He clutches his arm. What do you have in there? Books? A grin snakes across his face. I like my women feisty. He adds, I like my broken.
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My mother read that parents should spend quality time with their children. One way is to sign up for organized activities together. This month we're taking meditation to free the mind. Last month it was Rolfing. Have you ever Rolfed, Tone? Only after the school's shepherd's pie, I said.
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Everything seems to be working. Except me. I'm broken.
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