The Suicidal Glass
Rebekah Stottlemyer


My life is at an END! I just can’t go on anymore. Everything has fallen apart, shattered. My girlfriend, the wine glass, has dumped me for some stuck up, hoity toity flute glass. Who does she think she is? I am a nice, handsome drinking glass and we were perfect together. We would sit next to one another for hours, just in each other’s company. Why did she have to go and leave me? I hate her and I hate her new perfect boyfriend. I hate my life. I hate everything! I just wanna die.
So I am sitting at the edge of this coffee table waiting, hoping to be bumped off, fall, shatter and die! Die, I say die, end this horrible life, leave this endless ruin of existence. I’m waiting, People! Where are those humans? Why are they never around when I need them? They are always here when I don’t want them around, touching me and placing their lips on me, but when I want them here are they? Nooo. Stupid humans. I want to die now.
Why must everything be difficult! Everyone of my fellow glasses is staring at me. I know it, I will show them! They will see my love in pieces. Then that stupid ex of mine will see what she missed out on. If only those . . . those humans would show up. Where are they? I am getting bored. Can’t a glass die in a timely manner? Why does everything have to be so complicated? I just cannot go on, I want this to end!
Wait, what was that? Oh, wow. Would you look at that. She is gorgeous! Right across from me in that glass case is the most perfect china tea cup ever. She is perfect, everything I ever wanted. I have to meet her. Who cares about my ex, the stupid flute glass! She is flawed compared to Miss China Tea Cup’s loveliness. Flawed, I say, with a mark in her glass face. Why have I never noticed before? Miss Flute Glass does not compare to the loveliness of Miss China Tea Cup! I have found my meaning of life. I want to live again!
NO! NO, STOP! What is that human doing? She is bumping my table! I don’t want to die. I have a meaning to my life. Don’t kill me please. Please. NOOOOOOOOOOOO. AHHHHHHHH . . . Oomph. That fall hurt, but I’m not dead. Yeah, lucky, happy day! That would have sucked if I had still wanted to die, but I don’t, so yeah! This carpet saved me. It is so thick I did not shatter or even crack. I now can go to my love. I am being picked up. Yes, stupid human who almost killed me, take me to my love.
Wait! No! Go back. Back there, you do not know where you are going! We are supposed to be going to my love, not to the kitchen sink. Take me back, I demand it! Why is she washing me with these other dishes? I mean, honestly. Look, there is a sugar bowl there, for crying out loud! If this human wanted to wash me, then she should at least do so with other worthy glasses, not with sugar bowls. Arg. No, I don’t want a bath. I want to go to my love! Take me b-argh, she is trying to dr-mhooph drown me . . . that idiot.
Ok, now I am clean. Take me to her now! No, wrong way! The cupboard is not where I belong. I belong with Miss China Tea Cup, not with the other stupid drinking glasses. If you are not going to take me back to my love, just drop me now! There is no reason for living if you will not bring me back into her presence. I belong in that glass case with her loveliness.
I am waiting! Why do people think that I have all the time in the world? Sitting in this cupboard with other less-than-perfect glasses is really stretching my reason to go on. Take me to her NOW! What does a glass have to do around here to have some respect!
Finally, those humans are taking me out. Yes, put something in me. Fill me up and take into her presence so I can bask in her loveliness. Through the doorway into her sight. NO! This cannot be happening! Why me? My love is . . . she is . . . How could she do this to me? The eye of perfection, Miss China Cup herself, is . . . is . . . Cheating on me! How could she! We were perfect. We fit together in such a way words could not describe. How could she be with that dirty sugar bowl? It is not even a glass or a cup but a bowl. My love . . . how could she?
My life is at an end . . . just kill me now.