I wanted to die. I didn’t want to be here anymore. I was close, too. I had been on the side of the bridge – the cold wind blowing through my hair. My eyes were focused on the tips of my shoes and the water beneath me. My heart was racing and I was breathing heavily, but I didn’t notice it – I had the devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other. The devil had made it to the opposite shoulder to smother the angel, and, hissing, it filled my head with obvious lies and plausible truths. The angel was trying to fight against the devil with tears running down its face, trying to break free. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was so sick and tired of feeling the way I did. During one of my late night fits or “episodes,” I guess it’s safe
