My life used to be good. A great group of friends, a loving partner. But now, I see nothing ahead of me. The time has come for me to choose. Life or death.

The handle of the knife is already wet. I'm sweating, but from fear or relief I don't know. I raise it to my arm and hold the edge against my soft skin. The liquid of my life pulses within it, so close to the cold air. I push slightly and watch as my skin stretches. It would be so easy, just to end it all, to watch as my life fell away, like the friends I thought would be there forever.

I move the knife slowly sideways, and my skin breaks. There is no torrent of red blood, just a small trickle. Iv'e had enough of wishing for what I can't have, for wanting what should have been mine.

This world isn't what I wanted. Where is my happy ending, where is the rich life I was promised. My hands are drenched now, but no longer from sweat. I lower them too my sides, and wait for sweet relief.

Nothing. I look down. The pool of blood stretches out in front of me, but my head feels clear. Anger seers through me. Why does nothing I do go right? Where is the veil of darkness that I hoped for.

I take the knife in my hand and stab at my arm. It goes in, and I feel the extreme pain, but no less awake. The dark room around me doesn't close in, and I see no bright light.

I stab again and again, feeling my flesh rip and seeing my blood fall to the dusty floor. Once again I feel nothing except the pain.

I take the knife and press it to my throat. Nothing could stop this from happening, and I felt no fear. I move the blade swiftly across my neck, feeling the sharp edge cut deep into my tender muscle. I heard the air escape from my open windpipe. I close my eyes and count backwards from ten, knowing that before I am finished, nothing will remain.

Zero. My eyes flick open. This cant be happening. I stagger to my feet and move to the stained mirror in the corner. I see the sliced flesh of my neck, feel the horrific pain as my blood oozes out. I cannot die. There will be no relief from my life. I take one quivering hand and press it to my chest. Where there was once a steady beat I felt an eery stillness. I was already dead.