Honestly, I don't know how I managed to get home. I enter quietly so as not to wake my sister, and end up groaning when I accidentally bump into the banister and clench my teeth so as not to scream, letting out only a small groan of pain.
I go up the stairs, or rather, I crawl, and finally reach my room. I close the door and don't turn on the light - I was afraid to see how badly I was hurt.
I walk very slowly, and every step I take is torture, and I always lean on the wall until I reach my desk, where I have a notebook and also some books.
I didn't always have to turn on the light in the room, since I had a light fixture. As soon as I can reach it, I turn it on and see my bruised fingers. I feel the tears already flowing. I open the journal that I had gotten from my sister and start writing. Even writing hurts. I begin to cry softly.
"Dear diary, today was my eighteenth birthday!"
"I don't deserve to live."
"I was raped and drugged, and I decided I must die today!"
That's all I can write, and I leave the journal. I open the drawer, and there was a small pocket knife in there. I take it and go to the bathroom. When I get there, I turn on the lights. The tears come down more and more and I can't control them. I was ashamed, in pain, angry.
My face was bruised, my hair was disheveled, and my clothes were torn. I was already aware of one thing: I couldn't live with this nightmare, and the only thing I had to do was to kill myself, it was the only solution.
I take the stiletto straight to my wrist and start to pass the blade. I feel the burn of the cut and already see the blood coming out. I do the same thing to the other one, and before long I was falling to the ground. Just before I do, I hear my sister's scream:
- Forgive me... - I ask, and finally I feel death coming and I surrender to it in peace, knowing that nothing in the world would harm me.