3, 2, 1...

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It was a beautiful autumn day. The sky was bright blue with fluffy white clouds. The weather felt nice with a slight chill in the breeze. Susan stood hand and hand with her bestfriend, Sally, the two otherwise known as S&S the Sad Suicide Sisters. Or, for short, S5.

Both girls were only fourteen years old and had been living lives not worth living. They thought of it more as surviving.

Susan, had never met her father. She was told he took one look at her and left, leaving her with her mother. Her mother soon became a drug addict, doing all sorts of drugs to cope with the heartbreak along with physically, verbally, and sexually abusing Susan. Susan was blamed for all her mothers problems.

Her mother called her a mistake. Susan grew up alone, a girl unwanted, negleted, and unloved by her parents. She never knew what real love or protection felt like. For a long time, her only friend being the bloody, old blade hidden under her mattress.

Sally, had both her parents until the age of 7 where she watched as her parents were murder before her eyes. The murders then taking advantage of her, and left her to die. She was found days later and rushed to the hospital, from there she went into an orphange and was adopted into an abusive family at the age of 10.

They beat her, humiliated her, and her older brothers sexually assulted her until she passed out. Like Susan, blades and knifes quickly became her bestfriends.

Both girls had attempted suicide at least one, coincedentally both at the age of thirteen at the end of their 8th grade year. They were bullied, called names and hit on by the other girls in school, because they were different.

Because they dressed in all black, never showed skin besides their hands and faces. Because they never spoke. Because they never ate at lunch, or joked around during recess.

All the other kids didn't and wouldn't ever understand- even if it were explained to them countless times- how it felt to be them. How it felt to walk a single step in their shoes. How it felt to be afraid to sleep at night or to even go home. Home was a place of love and togetherness, so they say. Susan and Sally never felt that way. Home was Hell.

They were both so tired,

Tired of all the hurt.

Sally turned to Susan, her eyes dark from lack of sleep. "Together?" She questioned, her voice soft.

"On the count of 3," Susan replied, gripping Sally's hand tighter. They walked in unison, stopping right at the edge of the cliff.

"3," Sally whispered.

"2," Susan whispered.

"1," they whispered together, leaping off the edge.

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