The silver blade slid across her pale flesh with practised ease. The skin opened easily, allowing the dark red liquid to seep out. As the soft blood dripped down her scarred arm she began to drift away from her body, away from the pain, away from the loneliness that lived in her heart and away from the thought of what the new day would bring. Daytime was always the same, always the same smiling people, always the same friends who didn't know how alone she felt. Not that she could blame her friends for the loneliness that lived inside of her, the loneliness that attacked the very core of her being, her friends were kind and sweet, it was just they either didn't or didn't want to know what hid behind her smile..but how could they not know? She knew they had seen the scars. How could they have missed them? She hadn't shown them on purpose, she would never willingly have shown them, her long sleeve had slipped up her arm one day and before she knew it had her friends had all reacted with slight gasps, but no-one had mentioned them since, no-one had acknowledge the pain she was putting herself through. No one had acknowledged the pain because no one cared. She wished she had the strength to end it all, to end the pain and emptiness that lived in her soul, but she couldn't, not yet anyway, but soon, she knew it would be soon, because with each cut, the pain got less, the lonely feeling left her even if only for a short while and soon she would be able to make the loneliness leave her forever so she could be free.

Everyday was the same. No one looked in her direction. No one noticed when she walked late into her classes. Even the teachers had given up asking for a reason as to why she was late. She didn't blame anyone for not caring, why should anyone care for her? She wasn't worth anything to anyone, even her mother didn't care. She knew her mother didn't care. The smile her mother wore was just a cover; she knew that her mother didn't really mean it when she said 'I love you'. Why would she? No one else did. Why should her mother be any different? There was only one person who she knew really loved her and maybe it was because of him that she hadn't left a long time ago, she just didn't know how to say goodbye. How do you say goodbye to someone who cannot understand the reason as to why you have to leave? Maybe if he was a little older, he would understand why one day soon she would no longer be there to smooth his angelic baby blonde hair, calm his cries with soft words, and stare into his sparkling blue eyes. But he wasn't. So she couldn't. She just hoped that he was old enough to remember her, remember how she would play with him, cuddle him and hold onto him. She hoped he would know that she loved him with all the love she could muster.

The pain was dull, like it always was. The blade ran along her wrist, re-opening the wound that still tried to heal. She knew as she saw the first drops of blood appear that this was it, that this was the last time she would lay on her bed staring at the beige ceiling as velvety blood spilled from her wrist and fell upon the pale blue fabric of her rough sheets. This was the last time that she would fall asleep thinking about the loneliness that had eaten her alive. 'It was true what they said', she thought as she closed her eyes, 'your life really does pass before your eyes', but the life that passed before her eyes was one filled with loneliness. She saw friends who didn't care, a mother who refused to see what lay beneath the surface, teachers who didn't know she existed, classmates who didn't give her a thought.

The only regret she had, the one regret that almost made her stop the bleeding, was that she would never see her son grow up. She hoped he could forgive her for this, forgive her for not having the strength to stay, forgive her for taking the coward's way out. But she couldn't stay. Nothing could dull the loneliness she felt inside. So that's why she didn't hold her wrist like she had before, that's why she didn't try to stop the bleeding, that's why she allowed her empty spirit to be carried away. As she felt her mind slipping away from all conscious thought a small smile crept over her lips, a real smile, not one of the ones she wore everyday to make people around her think everything was ok. No, this smile was real, because the loneliness and emptiness was slipping away. She felt free.

AN: Ok, I know it was short but I hoped you liked it. It (obviously) was a one shot, but nonetheless I would still appreciate reviews. Please let me know if you liked this, if you didn't, what I should/ shouldn't have written etc. I am playing around with different styles of writing at the moment. Constructive criticism will be welcomed with open arms! ... I'll give you a giant hug and lots of chocolate if you review. Thanks.