As she sits there blade to her left, pills to her right she thinks "who'd miss me anyways?". Her parents would be sad, but not for long. He brother wouldn't notice. Neither would the kids at school. Her boyfriend would find a new girlfriend, and every ones life could easily continue with out her. As she takes the blade in her hand, she wonders where she should write her next chapter. Her arm, shoulder, hip, maybe her thigh? She wonders if she should take the pills THEN write her story. Or write her story then take the pills. She opens the pill bottle looking at the white chalky pills. She thinks about pouring a hand full into her palm, then letting them slide down her throat one by one. She decides on the blade first. She doesn't think. She just sees the think red letters on her skin. "Fat", "Ugly", "Whore", "Useless", "Mutt", "Dirt", "Broken", "WORTHLESS". These words keep spinning in her head and she starts to feel dissy. But she continues carving her story. She watches the words fall to the floor. She opens the pill bottle, and like she imagined before, she pours them into her hand. She reaches for her glass of water and takes the whole handful. She doesn't feel anything, but then she cant feel anything. Her body goes numb and her heart starts racing. She starts crying and shaking. And she knows shes done it. She shuts her eyes tight and prays. Shes never been religious but she figures it might help. She starts slipping deeper and deeper into the dark sleep shes always hoped for. She's suddenly awaken by a alarm clock. And she realises it was all a dream. The only dream she wishes was a reality
