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   "Babe, it's over." They were the words that changed my life. He had said them to me after he'd told me about the girl that he'd met over the summer. Her name was Eleanor. She caused this. She made him break up with me after four years. She bedded him and got him hooked. She caused all of this.

   Before John broke up with me, I was a happy, preppy girl that loved to socialize and help others. I helped with all charity events, gave to the poor, got good grades, was always the peace maker of arguments. I never did anything to deserve this. Did I?

   So, after John broke up with me, I changed everything about myself: the way I looked, how I acted, who I hung out with, what I did in my free time. Everything. I turned emo. I dyed my honey blonde curls black and straightened it all of the time. I wore heavy eye make up, no blush or bronzer. I wore tight, dark coloured clothes. I hung out with all of the Emos from our school, mostly art freaks. I didn't really talk or go out much and participated as little in school as possible.

* * * * * * * * * *

   As the blade rang along my wrist, I felt release. I felt calm and relaxed. I felt happy - well, as happy as I could be. I then moved to my elbow and pressed harder on the blade than usual, blood dripped down my arm. As it dripped to the floor, I sighed and went over the same cut again. I did this several times. Soon, everything went hazy and then black.

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