• "Do you think he'll wake up" the shaky voice belonged to my father, it was followed by a stronger clam voice.
    "I think he'll wake up soon Mr Reyes" the voice was deep, I felt sad when it stopped, the room was quite, and I found myself starring up at a white ceiling. It hurt my eyes. I closed them again tight, my dream of death was over and i was rudely thrust back into life. I could feel tubes in my nose, and going down my throat , IV's running all over my body restricting my movement. I could feel them all inside of me pumping me full of artificial life. This is one perfect example of why I hated science so much. It dabbled in things better left alone. But I knew I wasn't ready to face life yet, so I decided to see if i could death another chance.

    When i awoke i was tired of trying to die, my mother say next to me reading "Home Living" i groaned with disgust. At my small sound she dropped the magazine, and looked me over. A smile smile on her perfectly done lips, and her wet eyes. A wave of nausea ran over my to see her like this and I grimaced.
    "Ho are you feeling? -- No wait! I'll go get the doctor!" and before i had the chance to answer she was gone.


    Mom was a weepy mess, Dad was stoic and angry, and my sister Jen, was a pissed indifference when we got home. The house had changed. No pills were out, they were all safely locked in in my parents closet. My bedroom was bare, a product of my suicide attempt.
    I had no door r set of drawers anymore, my closet was empty of everything but my "nice" clothes.My computer was gone as well as all my books, there were crisp new white sheets on my bed with a single blue blanket.
    Once i would of cared that, they did this, that they found all my secrets i kept hidden from the light. But I didn't care anymore I went to my bed laid down and closed my eyes, I didn't was to talk to anyone, let alone my family.