CAUTION: Depressing story

A cup of Sunshine

The light shone through the panes of glass and touched my face like every other morning. My eyes warmed and peeled open but only slightly to check I was where I originally fell to rest. Today was going to be a bad day, it's the 15th, an odd number.
My eyes now adjusted to the warm spools of gold that the sun encrusted on my face through each wide glass pane and I peered at the clock. It read:

8:29

I sighed. One more minute until I knew for sure what was to happen. It flicked to 8:30 and I heard the slow heavy foot steps of father. As he stumbled to my bedroom door my ears rung loud and sharp. He fumbled with the door knob and cursed at his idiocy. My breath drew out slowly and I shut my eyes to imagine what I always did when father said good morning.
I was in the arms of a God. He placed me in a field of golden light and bright blue skies. He spoke softly, 'Be at peace.' All the people I had lost stood beside me. They all desired to belong with me forever in this golden field of bliss. Only to be with me. My mind raced with these happy, beautiful thoughts of my sub-conscious until it all came to a shuddering halt.

I guess I'm lucky father uses a rubber, I thought, as I adjusted my white stained knickers. I always wondered why I kept these form the first good morning father pleasured himself with. I felt nothingness as I pulled my shirt back over my head. This also was stained with speckles of white good mornings, but that's little of my worries.

I look in the mirror every morning and stare back at the same girl who I've seen but never known. Her eyes were a bright ice blue although now they are empty, dull and hard. Her skin was a smooth creamy canvas but now it has been smeared with bruises and scars from her selflessness. Her hair was like a golden angel's as she flew through the sky it made the world stop, just to watch her float by. But now, the lengths are uneven and matted, all gold must've been mined out a long time ago.

I look away from her faded features and stare deeply at my failures on my wrists.
A tear begins to burn from my eye and i whisper with determination, "not today..."
Maybe I've been doing this all wrong and I pick up my faithless Stanley. He has brought me much pain followed by a satisfying relief. He never speaks a word of hate, but his actions provoke my mind and take my thoughts to play in the same golden field.
I place him softly onto the table. Father may have noticed the long rope tied readily into a noose but he'd only of cared for he would've lost his last fuck. I place the chair beneath the sanctuary I've created and I balance myself onto the higher world above the floor.
Left foot then the right.
My head only just pulls through the small circle and tears my hair.
I bit my tongue before I slip.
Cursing is blasphemy.
My tears are streams of forgiveness that fall from my eyes and roll down my cheeks. This I will never feel and I start to rock the chair.
It slips to thud onto the ground.
We fall together as the air is clutched form my lungs and I try to cry out but I am now empty. Along with no possession I carry no soul. And I fall to the field again but forever I will be in bliss.