Pain. Suffering. Despair. That's all life is really about. That's all that really matters.

Trust me. I know.

My name is Annaya Suri. I am sixteen years, and I know all about life. All about Death. I know of my every waking moment, the pain that fills it. The longing for Death.

Don't get me wrong-I never forgot about life. Damn that blessed thing.

And all that goes with it.

* * *

"Annaya!" Mother had called. I ran to her, pretending that it was happy.

"Yes, Mother?" I asked. She cupped my chin in her hand, pulling it up to meet her Hazel eyes.

"Anne, love, is everything okay?" She was truly concerned.

"Yes, mother. I'm fine." I lied. It hurt, but I didn't want to worry her.

I wasn't fine. I never would be.

I just never realized how serious my pain was.

* * *

I sat in the kitchen, running the knife across my finger. It was small, but sharp.

I sighed, then took a bite into an apple. It was bitter. It had tasted the same as it had yesterday. Just like my life.

I continued to draw the knife across my fingers. I knew that it wouldn't take much...

With a single slash, I brought it upon my wrists. It hurt, but the pain was something new.

I didn't cry out as the blood ran down my arms, my legs, my soul.

And now, as I lay here-

Dying-

Losing my soul-

I wonder-Could it have been different?

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Author's Note: I'm not gonna commit suicide. Although, this could have been me, at a time or two in my life, I am not Annaya. Repeat: I am not Annaya.