The Last Few Letters: 1

I've never really thought about death.
Sure it comes to mind, I mean how can't it. But until lately, I never thought about how maybe…death is NOT when you're old and have lived the good life. Now, I've been thinking maybe it could happen any time.
I'm in the 9th grade…and I'm just realizing this. Pathetic, huh?
God controls life and death, he brings me into the world, he is the only one with the right to take me out.
And yet…I still have the power to do it. If I so choose to, I could take a knife or noose and end it all.
Quick and easy.
I wish I wasn't thinking about death, I really do. I wish things weren't so horrible.
But things kinda suck once your whole school finds out about why you have the scars, and about how you don't only like girls "like I'm supposed to", and how at home every day…my life is horrible.
When rumors like that spread, it almost doesn't seem like a huge rumor. It just seems like people are finding out the cold, horrible, truth.
And until people started mocking me for things I didn't do, I never really thought about death.
I think about it a lot now. I write it sometimes, on paper, on my arm.
I've never really thought about death.
Why am I now?