She sat, contemplating. Was today going to be the day? Had she finally finalized the plan? And would anyone really miss her?

Going over the day, she realized that no other day would be quite the same. Even if she failed. Today would be a day for everyone to remember. Remember her pain. Remember her stress, agony, and failure to accomplish. She had gone over it for quite sometime. And now, today was the day.

Her friends talked about the trivial things they always talked about. Her parents ignored her through empty questions about her day. Her siblings meandered through the house pretending that they were good kids. And she, she planned. Expertly. Strategically. Meticulously.

She sat in the bathroom. The blade was sharp. Her father always used sharp blades. And she was grateful to him for this. Inadvertedly he was helping her in ways he would never understand. And in ways she could never forget. The plan was not to know that it was done. It wasn’t for her. It was for them.

For the ones who ignored. The ones that hurt. Hurt directly in their critiques and their judgements. Hurt indirectly in their ignorance and senseless tidings. This was for them.

Should she write a note? Maybe to her friend, to let her know how hurt she was that she had found happiness with him. Or maybe to her parents, mostly her mother, who had no clue who she was but bragged about her daughter’s accomplishments as if she achieved it all. Her siblings, who in their youth would never quite understand that their older sister resented their existence. No, no notes. If they did not know why, they could imagine whatever they want.

Back to the blade. Its shiny silver illustrated her pain in its reflection. She stared at it for a while. And in her contemplation had forgotten that she had run bathwater. How theatric to do it and then drown. It would be a beautiful landscape. Her blood running with her tears coalescing into the bath that would be her watery grave. She almost smiled at the symphony of her thoughts. How freely they flowed, and how calmly the thoughts of her death seemed to dance in her head.

Life, or what she had surmised, was not what she had expected. And now, in the last minutes of her tainted existence, she remembered the day she decided to end it. No use going back over it now, but just a quick note to remind herself of. Maybe a note, she still thought. But, in reality, a postponement as it slowly approached.

The water was warm as she slipped herself down into the tub. Fully dressed. Why not? No need to fully shock them, I guess.

The first cut was painful. More painful that the last dozen times. But, more blissful because it meant something this time. She watched as the red fluid leaked through the jagged incision and was amazed that she had cut so deep. Biting her lip, and bracing herself to take the right arms life next, she lay back on the rear edge of the tub. The next slash was definitely more painful that the other one. And, in that moment a bit of regret as she watched the two streams flow into the water. She held her arms under the water and began to sway them back and forth. The water washing over her wrists sent short pangs of pain through her body. They were welcome stings. As she knew she was finally realizing her penultimate plan.

In the next minutes of thought, she was preparing herself to complete her death. Slinking lower into the water. Fully submerging herself. Allowing the water to fill her nostrils, her mouth. It was hard to hold her breath, as her body was struggling to live. But, she had made up her mind. She was done with her life. Done with her status among the living. Done with it all.

After a few moments of holding herself under water, she heard the last sounds of her life—siblings yelling, mother on the phone, father watching television. She would be gone.

The crying girl would be gone. Although no one would remember her that way. She smiled through it all. Pretended through it all. Doing it all for everyone who hurt her; believing that the more she did, the better it would get. But, it didn’t. So, this would be her last tear.

Her last breath was the sweetest, and she succumbed to it. Death was calling and she answered. Good-bye life. May He have mercy on her soul and judge her not.

It was a hour later when her sister found her lying in the tub full of red water. She felt as if she could hear the scream from beyond. Mother rushed in next, and the anguish and despair on her face was nothing compared to the way her daughter felt every day of her life. It was finally over. And there were no regrets.