I can't believe what I'm seeing. She's hanging there, an empty pill bottle lying on the ground by a knife. A glass stands nearby. It is stained red.

Soon after, I'm pacing a hospital waiting room. They come and tell me she has committed suicide. She took a bottle of pain medication with her own blood before hanging herself. I hear my voice yell and feel tears slide down my face as I collapse on the ground. She is dead.

Hours later, my bedroom walls begin to spin. The assortment of pills I stole stare at me. I try to get off the floor and walk to my bed, but I can't. I'm too dizzy to even crawl. A sigh escapes hopelessly.

The music and lights dim. My vision sudden clears. I am sitting in the dark now, and I cannot see my surroundings.

Twinkling lights appear in the distance. They approach me slowly. I smile. Maybe I'm not so alone.

They reach me. I realize it is not a they, but a she. Her. She's standing there in front of me, dressed in white and surrounded by lights. She offers me her hand. I take it and she pulls me up.

I stand and stare at her. She gives me a little smile. I smile back. She tips her head back slightly, gesturing at the darkness. I nod.

Still holding hands, I follow her into the dark.