Edge's Suicide

Edge

You knew me, but you never really knew me. You saw me, but you never really saw me.

When I was a little girl, I never thought or dreamed about monsters. I didn’t even know they were real.

When I was a little girl, I read books, not fantasies or science fictions mind you. No, all of them were non-fiction. I had no time for imagination, my father told me. I had no time for silly games.

However, that isn’t to say that I never had dreams. I had plenty of dreams. Perhaps they weren’t the dreams of a child, but they were dreams, and they were mine. I dreamed of going to an Ivy League College. I dreamed of getting my doctorate. I dreamed of creating a family. And surprisingly similar to everyone else, I dreamed of falling in love.

Sometimes dreams come true, sometimes they do not, but I had the passion and the discipline to make my dreams a reality. At least that’s what my parents taught me. At least that’s what I hoped.

Darling girl

Shining Star

Win the world.

You’ll go far

I made it into one of the top colleges in the country. With my grades and test-taking skills, it was easy, far easier than I expected to say the least, especially since I never had a boyfriend. All of my focus was on school. Boys came later. I wasn’t going to do anything to ruin my chances.

In college my grades put me on the dean’s list. My father and mother were so proud, or so they told me. My father called me his darling girl. My mother called me her shining star. They were always there for me, from start to finish. Always.

My father died of cancer in my junior year of college.

My mother killed herself before we could even see his funeral.

Together.

Alone.

All of a sudden, I was alone. I had no one to love me. I had no one to care. I didn’t want them to love me. I didn’t want them to care. I hid myself away. Forced myself into solitude.

Always Alone.

My college was by the ocean, so I often saw storms. However, it wasn’t till after my parents passing that I began to actually see the storms. After my parents passing, I waited for the clouds to roll in. I waited for the crack of lightning and the pitter-patter of rain against my window. Then I watched and waited for the storm to pass.

The storm never really passed.

Sometimes, only upon special occasion of course, I would go outside and let the rain fall on my shoulders and hands. I would let the rain drench my hair. Sometimes on my happiest days I would even dance,

Just to hide the tears.

On a particularly unhappy afternoon, I contemplated suicide. A few weeks later on another particularly unhappy afternoon, I was ready for an attempt. I took a plane back to my country of origin and went back to my parent’s house. If there was one place that I wanted to die, it was there.

I had moments of hesitation, of course. Moments where I thought it wasn’t worth it. But I didn’t let that stop me. I was too stubborn for that.

I wanted to start slow, so I picked up a needle, closed my eyes, and pricked my wrist. I saw a flash of blue light through my closed eyelids. I dropped the needle to the floor.

I looked outside my window. I saw the flicker of blue lightning across the windowpane and the echoing crack of thunder. I took a deep breath. The rain started to splash against the window. I smiled.

My best friend had decided to join me by my death bed.

The rain set me at ease and I decided to try again, eyes wide open. I picked up the needle again and plunged it into the vein in my wrist. The needle lit up and evaporated in a burst of blue electricity.

Did I just get struck by lightning and live? What a cruel twist of fate. It was as though something in this world just didn’t want me to die. I hated that thing.

Just let me die. Please. Just let me die.

I dug through my father’s dresser drawer and found his pistol he kept just for emergencies. I loaded the gun with one of my father’s bullets.

I put the gun up to my head. “No, stopping me this time.” I said. I felt my tears roll down my face as I started to pull the trigger.

That’s the last thing I remember.

I woke up the next morning in a pile of ash. My house was gone, but I could see the sun straight overhead.

I touched my fingers to the side of my head, but there was no blood. Was it all just some crazy fever dream? I asked myself.

The sun was bright, but my feet were cold. I was someone different now, a new creature. It took me a while to move, but as I took that first step, I started running.

I am Edge, and that is how I was born.

That other little girl was dead.