[ WP ] The inner monologue of a suicidal man who has just been stabbed by a criminal and is slowly bleeding to death .

I could n't help but laugh, lying there in the cold street. It already hurt more than anything and the laughing just jacked it up to 11, but fuck me if it was n't funny. 
 
 Stabbed on the way to buy a gun to fucking kill myself with. I guess the big man upstairs did n't think I deserved a painless death. Bastard. Still, I suppose it gets the job done. My parents wo n't even have to know I wanted to end it. It'll just be a terrible tragedy. I get out scot free. 
 
 I looked down at my stomach and found my hands clutching it, pressing uselessly against the the flow of blood. I could feel every wound like fire, but some part of me was still trying to save itself. Probably the same part that would've had me contemplating whether to pull the trigger. Sorry bitch, but you die with me. Ha ha. 
 
 God damn it hurts. How the fuck do people in movies fight through this shit. At least it'll end. At least it'll finally end. No more shitty TV shows. No more laundry. No more booze. No more grinding my teeth as I lay in bed. No more pain. 
 
 No more cold mornings. No more trips to the grocery store. No more pain. No more awkward conversations with the cute cashier girl. Or the girl who lives down the hall. No more goddamn pain. Jesus, it hurts so fucking much. I just want to die already. 
 
 Starting to feel tired. I wonder how many people will find out about my death. I wonder if she'll find out I'm dead. I wonder if she'll care. I wonder if this pain will ever stop. 
 
 I wish I could say something to her. Leave a message so she'll know I still cared. At least if I had done it myself I could've left a note. I ca n't move my arms. I want somebody to tell her I'm sorry. I want somebody to find me. I want this pain to stop. 
 
 Help.
