****ALL CREDIT TO THE PHOTOGRAPHER OF MY BOOK COVER**** The voices in my head tell me it's okay. They say I'm allowed to hurt myself. I'm allowed to create paintings on my skin with razor blades. These monsters in my head are my friends, not my enemies like people seem to think. I don't have a mental problem like my father seems to think. I'm not a freak like my brother thinks. And most importantly, I'm not dead. Why am I not dead? I deserve to die. I'm not worthy of the breath that fills my lungs. I should be dead. But I'm not. And there is only one reason why.