a Deadly Game

A book idea:

I shove the post-it note in my pocket. This time, I'm going to show it what I really mean. On it, my main faults and problems are listed. Among all of them, anorexia screams to be read. I've crossed out the few that I think I can overcome but that one is still there.

Still present.

Still alive.

So I take the post it note with me. Not forgetting to grab my lighter on the way out of my room.

Walking down the empty hallway reassures me this is the time.

I reach the kitchen, empty and clean. Just as my mother left it.

I finally make it to the back door when I stop. Reconsidering what I'm about to do. What if the neighbors see me? What will they think? Maybe it won't work. It's just a stupid mind game.

Don't let this mean it's the end of everything. The end of the beginning. Don't let that happen.
But I push through the anxiety and open the door. A cool blast of air rushes at me and my hair dances around. Stepping outside i glance around. The yard over is empty.

Safe.

I sit on the cold cement and figure how I'm to do this.

I flick the lighter a few time. The wind blows it out. Finally it stays lit and i pull the paper out. Slowly letting it catch on fire i watch the paper fold and crinkle. A white ash left in its past.
But then the fire grows, just about to lick my hand. I blow on it, the fire grows stronger yet. How could such a small piece of paper create so much fire?

Giving up on the blowing it out method i throw it to the ground, where it lands next to a puddle. The cement is damp there. Only a small section of the paper is left un-charred. It reads:

"anorexia"

That word is unforgiving.

Please just forgive me.

Please just let me go.

Please just stop.

Please?