Written

They never noticed the loss of one lost, lonely girl in the midst if their crowd. Because they never noticed her in the first place. And you know what’s really pathetic about that? That she was always there, as far back as most could remember, but it’s as if she wasn’t there at all. As if she had never existed.

Only one thing kept her tethered to this hell that most called life. It was him. The only one in thousands that never failed to notice her presence, no matter how small it was. But even his small light in her black world couldn’t keep her there for long. No, she had to set herself free, if no one else would help her.

And her way out was to seek refuge in the knife, the one thing in her life she could control. The one thing that could only hurt her when she wanted it to. And her wrists bore the signs of this control, this excruciating, yet painless relief. But still, nothing was ever in her control for long, that’s how it always was. And this included even the knife. The, oh so beautiful and deadly knife.

Because even if she thought she could keep herself distant from the teasing and taunting that haunted her, she truly couldn’t. And that led her to let the knife slide farther than ever before. Oh, the way the blood blocked out her emotional pain and gave her control. But her moment of relief was quickly gone, and replaced by the ever-growing panic that she had let the control slip, and that she would face the destructive aftermath of her tiny mistake.

The blood flowed over her wrists and pooled in the floor as she wept, just wishing for a happier ending to her short story. But there was no stopping Death I bringing the girl to her place of peace. A place where she never had one glimpse of the knife, of that agony.

But to the boy she had befriended, her only friend found her dead on the floor, eyes closed in a final peace, the way he cried rivaled her own tears as she had laid there dying. And when his eyes, blurry from the tears, finally cleared, he saw the book almost completely filled with her writing. Her tortured thoughts through her years. And when he picked up the book, her diary he realized, he read the last page that had been written in.

I have to tell you today, and I hope you don’t leave me. Don’t go.. Please? I’m begging you, don’t leave me, because you know what holds me to this life? What keeps me from letting the razor slip a little deeper into my wrist, just far enough to let my life slip away? It’s you. Only you. And if I lose you, I lose myself. And sometimes I think that would be better for me.. Because then I wouldn’t cause anyone anymore pain, any more guilt. They could be glad of my absence, because they won’t have to pretend to care anymore. Because I know that’s what’s happening. They don’t really care, only you. Them, they don’t give a damn about what happens to me. No, not them. Because who is one silent shadow in the midst of their brightness? Nothing, because eventually, that small shadow will be extinguished. Just like me. I love you Caleb.

His tears fell, hot and heavy, against the pages of the book as he finally realized her real thoughts. And as the tears continued to fall, he whispered to himself, “If you had told me, I could have saved you. I’m sorry. I love you too Anna.”