Crimson Owls:The winter breeze sends chills down my spine. I shiver. I stare off into the distance into winter coat blanketed mountains as I watch my breath exit from my nostrils as I exhale. But I’m not staring in admiration.I’m deep in thought. To be honest, I could give a fuck less about those beautiful snow covered mountains. I re focus my attention to the prison walls of my mind. Some things can just never leave. And yet, as much as I hate it, even more than this fucking cold weather, I stay there. Inside of my mind. All day.And all night. Stuck on memories of the past. Things that used to matter the most to me. Why? Because I was in a much better place during those times. These days and nights now, are just miserable. I begin my trek. My trek into the wilderness. A mental wilderness. It’s quiet time. I quickly turn my view from the nature before me and head back home. In complete silence. As my foot slips, on the recently added glow of red paint on the snow. Metaphorically, it’s paint. You get the picture. I enjoy the silence. Just moments ago, I would’ve covered my ears. But I was on a mission. A mission to destroy something so beautiful.(Suicide)Chapter 1:It’s been years since my accident. I hope the coroner marked it as an “accidental death”. Just to bring comfort to my “loved ones”. Or so society labels them. Whatever. By my accident, if your small little brain hasn’t put two and two together, was my suicide. I finally accomplished my mission. Destroying the most beautiful person I know. Myself. I am stating that not out of being conceited, but because I know the me that you don’t know. I’ve always known I have a beautiful soul, but thanks to circumstances that were out of my control in life, that beautiful soul became more damaged, bruised, hurt, and any other synonym you can play with…broken. Now, here we are. I am writing to you out of my soul, my spirit, the one you failed to recognize. You always saw the outside, never knew how I was feeling. I tried reaching out for help, but you wouldn’t give me the time of day. I don’t mean a specific you, it’s a universal “you”, as in, all of YOU that wouldn’t just…listen. There is a saying that goes, “you need help” or “get some help”, but what if everytime you try to ask for emotional help you get shut down. Shut down from the small circle of “close” people you have in life. The ones your supposed to love and care about. Guess the feelings not mutual. You know I’m right. To make me clear, after all my suicide attempts in the past, still to this day, Noone ever calls to check on me. To make sure I’m not thinking of ending my life soon. No. Nothing. So I try. “Hey”.Well that “Hey” gets ignored. So I’ll word it different. “Hey, I need help. I really want to die right now. Please help”. Oh, did that get your attention?Maybe I should just started texting that instead of “hey”. But I wouldn’t want to take up too much of your time. I dont like society, let alone people. So if youre in my life to the point that we have each other’s numbers. And I first text you with a simple “hey”, you should know something wrong. Because it’s not my thing to text or call anyone. But if I do, then somethings really wrong. But….You never noticed my cry for help. Why? Because you never listened. Even the simplest words speak the loudest. I never wanted things to end like this. But when you realize there is no help out there for you, then the only thing left is to help yourself. And if helping yourself means destroying yourself in a hope of eternity, that must explain my 5 failed attempts. I can’t even help myself. So I suffer. Everyday is worse than before. Every smile is faker than the one before. But I’m a fighter.So I fight to get help. But it never came. Eventually you get to the point where it’s time to throw in the towel because you can’t get ahead in life at all. So what’s the point in trying anymore?All this fighting has my soul exhausted. The hope for any help, was never there. So I stand here, Admiring the snow covered mountaintops. It’s the most beautiful thing I can see anymore. Me thinking I was the most beautiful thing is now gone. Thanks to the years of brokenness. And lack of help. But these….The mountains….Damn.I take a breath in, and breath out slowly as I put the pistol to my head. Goodbye loneliness. Hello happiness. Now here we are. My story told from beyond the grave. It’s beautiful here. Like butterflies and rainbows….Like the red and white combination of the CRIMSON OWLS