9.20.11

Her first day back at school. Thirty days since she had almost succeeded in killing herself. Five since she was declared well enough to go home, leaving the 'mental illness ward', where she had been quarantined, away from the real world, away with the crazies: the cutters, the anorexics and bulimics, the schizophrenics, the lonely ones, who have been lonely for so long they don't even realise they are lonely anymore.

Her friends don't care. They laugh, say how much she missed, how fun it was without her, how they enjoyed her absence, how nice it was without her. They enjoy not being abused, they say, but they don't really know what abuse is. They aren't the ones driven to attempt suicide by their 'friends'. They didn't even try to contact her, after the first two days.

This is normal, though, for her. She is used to no one caring, no one noticing, no one seeing her. What annoys her most is her failure. She can't even manage to kill herself properly, and this makes her angry. Angry at her friends, her family, the 'support system' they are apparently supposed to be to her, at the world, for driving her to this point. Angry, most of all, at herself. She wishes she had never sunk this low, so that the only thing she wants, and deserves, is pain.

Pain, she knows, is the only thing that could make her feel any better. Physical pain, to numb the emotional pain threatening to rip her apart, piece by piece, slowly and painfully, killing her as wretchedly as it possibly can. She deserves it, she knows, but she still wishes it gone with all her pathetic being.

Numb to the world, she makes her way through this day similar to any other. On the inside, she hurts, badly, feeling nothing but pain. On the outside, however, she acts like any other girl, cheerful if a bit quiet. No one notices, no matter how obvious she is, and the game continues, living, fooling everyone, making everyone believe she is fine.

At night, with the boundaries between real life and her mind blurred, she cries, mourning her own immanent death, for she knows no one else will. And finally, one night, with a breath, she is asleep forever. Goodnight.