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Chapter 5 - Suicide Meal

Angel's POV.

I didn't go to Sister Agnes' house.

Not at first.

Instead, I went home.

Each step felt heavier than the last, like something inside me was slowly giving up. By the time I reached the house, my chest felt tight—like I couldn't breathe properly.

I closed the door behind me and stood there for a moment.

Silence.

The same silence that used to comfort me… now felt unbearable.

My mind replayed everything.

The laughter.

The whispers.

The pointing fingers.

"The crazy dreamer."

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Maybe they were right.

Maybe I was foolish for believing things could ever change.

Maybe I was foolish for thinking I could change anything.

A tear slipped down my cheek.

"I'm tired…" I whispered.

Not just tired of the day.

Tired of everything.

The pain.

The shame.

The feeling of being alone—even in a world full of people.

I sank slowly onto the edge of the bed, my hands trembling slightly in my lap.

For a moment… a dangerous thought crossed my mind.

A quiet voice, soft but heavy, telling me there was a way to make everything stop.

I knew it was wrong.

Deep down, I knew it.

But the pain made it hard to think clearly.

So I prayed.

Heavenly Father…

Please have mercy on me…

My voice broke in the silence of the room.

I didn't even know what I was asking for anymore.

Relief?

Escape?

Peace?

Maybe all of it.

I stood up slowly and moved around the room, not really seeing anything—just moving, like my body was on its own.

Everything felt distant.

Like I was no longer fully there.

I changed into an old green dress and slipped on my black flats. My hands moved automatically as I fixed my hair into a loose, messy bun.

When I looked at myself, I barely recognized the girl staring back.

Her eyes were dull.

Empty.

I picked up my bag and walked toward the door.

I didn't know exactly what I was doing.

But one thing felt certain—

I needed to see Sister Agnes.

🕐 A few minutes later…

The bike ride felt longer than usual.

The wind brushed against my face, but it did nothing to clear my thoughts.

When I finally arrived at Randall Street, my heart began to beat faster.

I stepped down and walked slowly toward the gate.

Everything was quiet.

Too quiet.

I pushed the gate open and stepped inside.

Each step toward the house felt uncertain—like I was walking between two choices, two paths… and I didn't know which one I would take.

I reached the door.

For a second, I hesitated.

Then I knocked.

Once.

Twice.

Silence.

My chest tightened.

"Sister?" I called softly.

No answer.

I swallowed hard and knocked again, a little louder this time.

Still nothing.

A wave of panic rose inside me.

She's supposed to be home…

I stood there, staring at the door, my thoughts racing.

If she wasn't here…

If no one was here…

Then what was I supposed to do?

I lowered my hand slowly, my fingers trembling.

Maybe this was a sign.

Maybe I should just leave.

The thought scared me.

More than anything else.

I took a small step back, my heart pounding loudly in my chest.

I didn't know what would happen next.

But I knew one thing—

I couldn't stay in that moment forever.

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