She texted him two hours ago, but he didn't reply.

He never did. She wondered why she even bothered. She was a fool to still be hopeful. A complete idiot, really.

She hated herself.

Why did she think it would be different this time? He was the perfect guy. He still is. The problem wasn't him, though. The problem was her. She just never could get it.

Being "normal" was too hard.

They always loved her until they met her mind. The parts of her that could unwind at any moment, for any reason. That terrible darkness that clouded her life. Now it was destroying everything again.

She was destroying everything again.

So stupid she was to think she could be happy. To be able to have what everyone else had. What a joke, she thought. She could never find happiness. She could only find tiny pieces of that puzzle. She would never see the whole picture.

She cried.

The tears hurt. Her head hurt. Her body hurt. Her heart and soul hurt, more than anything. Love was so elusive to her. Maybe she didn't even really know what it was, but she knew it hurt. At least, this hurt.

Another text sent. A plea for an answer.

She waited another hour, sitting in the tub of her dark bathroom. No light, locked doors. The shower running over head. Maybe it was to drown out her sobs, or hide the streaming tears. Slightly too hot water washed over her, burning her skin.

She didn't care.

Still no reply came, and her heart sank even more at the sight of the word seen at 9:47pm. It was enough to know for sure he wasn’t interested in another one of her episodes.

Eventually, everyone got tired of her.

The pain was too much. Nothing mattered anymore, no matter how much she focused on her breathing, or how many times she counted to 10. She had sunk too deep this time. Without a helping hand to lift her up, she just fell deeper and deeper.

Into oblivion.

The first cut was fast and deep, the red crimson spilling out onto her pale skin. It washed away with the water, leaving a mesmerizing swirly red trail. She watched it briefly, a small smile forming. Seeing it was like a release. The pain would be over soon.

At least, the pain she couldn't stand any longer.

The second cut, on the opposite arm, was not as harsh. It hurt. She felt the razor pierce through, ripping away at her delicate veins. More red, hot liquid came rushing out. Now the entire tub had been painted in strokes of blood, flowing quickly down the drain.

She started to feel weak after a while.

No more tears now, no more pounding negative thoughts. She felt the life easing out of her, and she was okay with it. Still scared, but okay. She only wished he would have been able to save her. She thought he really was the one. She thought she could be happy.

She closed her eyes. It wouldn't be long now. None of it would matter soon. Maybe she would finally be free of her self. Of her broken mind. Her life slowly slipped away to the comforting thought of no pain.

The phone chirruped, New Message.

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