No ones POV:
She put the knife to her skin, and dragged a perfectly straight line from her wrist to her elbow.
The knife fell to the floor with a loud clank, and she stared at the open wound, watching blood spill from it like an over flowing dam.
With a smile on her face, she placed the notes shed written on the night stand next to her bed.
She layed down, carefully to make sure the notes were visible.
Laying in the bed where her best friend/boyfriend spent his last moments with her, she closed her eyes.
She could see a faint light.
Violet, come to me baby girl. She heard the voice of a young boy name Tate call out to her.
Slowly, she drifted towards the light.
She knew soon the police would find her, as she called in her suicide before she grabbed the knife.
The beautiful girl with such an ugly life finally got a chance to be happy.
As the light came an arms length away, she heard the sirens in the distance.
The light evolved her and she felt at peace.
Her arms fell limp and she mumbled her last word:
Goodbye.