She stands atop the roof and stares blankly at the oblivious bystanders below her. They appear to her, for once, to be what she is; faceless specks moving forward without purpose. For the first time in her life she feels kinship with these people. As far away as they are she can feel it, but she realizes that were she close by, she would truly see them and they her. That is why she cannot be close, why she has chosen to stay far away. This way she can feel not so alone, even if the feeling is born of feigned ignorance.
She feels moist heat running down her cheek, and she reaches up to feel it. When she holds her hand in front of herself she sees her small, blunt fingertips damp with salty tears. She marvels at the sight. She hadn't realized she had enough strength to cry, to show emotion. For a moment she feels pride, joy even, but quickly she stomps out the feelings. There can be no emotion that is why she chose this. Her dull eyes harden with determination as her chubby body straightens upright. Her small, pudgy hands tighten into useless fists as she continues to stare down at those below her.
Wind blows her dank brown hair into her face. She brushes it back, her hand brushing by her rough chapped lips. She is more determined than before. She stands atop the roof and stares blankly at the oblivious bystanders below her. They appear to her still as faceless specks moving forward without purpose, but they are now unlike her. There is no kinship to be felt. There is nothing to be felt anymore. For what seems to be the first time in her fifteen years she moves forward with purpose, determination, and drive. She moves forward with reason. She slowly turns away from the roof's ledge. She walks forward calmly, a calm that she has never before felt. She looks down at her arms, and then her legs. She looks at each and every scar they hold, and recalls why she had made each one.
Two from when her dad said she was a horrible sister. One after her best friend abandoned her, and at least twelve more from where she still couldn't handle the pain. When the boy she liked called her ugly, she trusted the wrong person, she hurt someone she loved. With each recollection, she moves forward with her purpose and forgets the details. She lets herself only remember the pain. Only the pain. People and memories, she knows, come and go on their own time, but the pain is constant and eternal. She continues her process single mindedly; find, recall, forget. Find, recall, and forget. Over and over, until not one scar was left unaccounted for.
As she sits, she thinks about those close to her now. How this would affect them, how they would react. She truly does love them, loves them as well as she can at least. She knows she is twisted and she isn't convinced she is truly capable of actual love. Her mother will be hurt, but she will see eventually that it is for the best. Now her mother can easily afford things for her little sister and make ends meet more easily. She will be hurt for a while, but it is for the best, truly, and she will see that.
Her best friend, her sweet, perfect, fragile, beautiful Rose, will be hurt the most she knows. The small girl who resembled an angel had been her salvation for the past year. Rose was who kept her going and who kept her fighting for as long as she had. Her precious flower, as pure and kind as anyone she had ever met, will be devastated. Rose doesn't deserve to be hurt like this, but Rose will be hurt worse if she doesn't choose this. She knows that Rose has others to be there and help. She knows that the others are better for Rose and that they will help the small girl and protect her with everything they have. Rose will be safe and that's what counted.
Diane is a strong girl. Diane understood the pain, and the stress, and the reasons why she would choose this way out. She counts on Diane to protect Rose, and she knows that Diane will give it her all. She hopes that there will be someone there to help Diane through things; strength can only handle so much. She has tried to help Diane as well as she can, but she is always preoccupied with her own problems, and her selfish nature doesn't allow her to be the person Diane needs. She can never forgive herself for that.
Lee, her Lee, her amazing, strong, sweet, perfect Lee. He doesn't need her anymore. He claims he does, but she doesn't believe it. Why does he need her when he has Nicole? He had gotten her to let him in and trust him, and he still has her trust and love, but she doesn't believe she still has his, despite his claims. She wants him to be happy no matter what, above all else, his happiness reigns supreme in her small, black heart. Lee is her everything, he has her heart and she hopes he will cherish the pitiful thing for her. She hopes for him to care for it. Her selfishness knows no bounds it seems. Lee will do anything for little Rose. He himself will die for Rose. She counts on this, and knows that were Rose ever endangered, Lee would save her flower. Lee had been hers for a short while, and she his. She is still his, much as she may like to deny it. She loves him; she loves him as much as her twisted soul will let her. She doesn't know if he will be hurt, she hopes not. She never wants to hurt him. If she does hurt him by doing this though, she knows that Nicole will be there to help him. She knows that he will be okay in the end.
With this she stands and stares blankly ahead. Her purpose is clear. She remembers nothing but the pain now. The pain that had been planted, and had grown inside her from the day she was born. The pain that consumes her, body and soul, now that nothing is there to hold it back. The pain that moves her legs, faster and faster until she hurls herself from atop the roof and for once I see myself. I finally see myself for just a split second as I watch my body careen towards the cement below.
I see my thin wrists, and my small hands. My thin, but curvy body. Soft, beautiful, angelic hair that is a mix of golden blondes and light browns. My small, heart-shaped face. Big sparkling, breath-taking, pale gray-blue eyes and my full, pink, bow shaped lips. I finally, finally see myself in my final moments. For the first time, I see myself truly, and I see the beauty I hold. I see it for that split second as I watch my body fall to the ground. For a moment I want to scream, to stop myself from falling. I want to live, I want a second chance! I open my mouth, ready to scream at somebody, anybody to save me! Just too please save me, give me another chance to live-
My body hits the cement, my head cracks, and for the first time in my fifteen years, I find peace in the black abyss. I see myself as I truly was, truly am. I see myself, the beautiful girl I saw falling from atop the roof with a serene smile on her face, and tears rolling down her cheeks. I see myself, and I finally, finally find peace.