She didn’t regret it. She always wanted to do it. To die. Embrace death with open arms, the only thing left was the courage to do it. Now it came to her.
Drifting through the abyss of nothingness, she recalls why she wanted death, why she chose it over fighting and hoping for something more, for even a small change, she never had the courage after all, to live and enjoy life, to embrace it. Instead she chose failure and death. She quit. A lot of times she gave up. She always did. She never chose to fight, a coward until the very end.
As a child, she was forced to quit. To easily give up. She was somehow raised that way. In times of struggle, she always fought hard, only to end up being the loser of a game she was about to win. She was always the one to give in, even when she was on the right side. She was the one who is supposed to just give up and give in without having a fight to end conflicts, to just accept the situation, whatever it was. A poor little push over.
Her childhood was like that, at least inside her so called home. Outside, she was a bully, the kid who gets what she wants and orders people around, the leader of the gang, the head, the obvious leader to any organization or group. Her classmates would always elect her as the president and without another word, she would be. Up until her grownup years, a leader, with minions on her side, who she always knew defies her, and she always end up doing the tasks her teammates were responsible for, like organizing events, promotions, and other petty things. She didn’t mind as long as the job gets done, and everything falls into place. She was never a team player, she liked doing things alone even group projects. Somehow she always liked being alone but never the thought of being lonely, she hated it, but it was always the opposite in her case.
People always thought and saw her as a friendly optimistic soul, they never saw the negativities inside of her. She always seemed happy and carefree, not a problem in her soul and even if she did have some, and it never showed in her, they never saw it. Thus her suicide came as a great shock to everyone who knew her. Except maybe some of her ‘closest’ friends and her diary who always saw the worst of her.