As mind slowly races down the endless highway of thoughts, I think to myself, Where am I? How long have I been here? This place of self-denial and hate. Hate? Has it really came to that? I knew I didn't like it here, but do I hate it? Possibly so. I turn and notice Reality and Fantasy dancing on a fine line beside me. Even though they aren't making any noise, my head is filled with the loud hammering the two are making. I just want it all to end. The doctor told me that once I started taking the medicine, everything would be okay. It's not. It's anything but. The medicine only softens it. He said that if it didn't help, I would have to go away for awhile, so I tell no one that it doesn't work. My life has become so hectic. When did it start? When I gave up my soul because the loss was too great to deal with. Do I think I'm too good to deal with it like all the others? No. I just know that I am not strong enough to. My mom tries so hard to get me out of the house. But I can't. Every little thing I see reminds me. Am I exagerating? Absolutely not. I do mean everything. That's because he had a way of dealing with everything. There was a reason for everything in existance. He taught me how to see the beauty in everything. He saw the beauty in me. How? I don't know, but he did. Who would have ever thought that I would be in love? Not me, that's for sure. But I was.
Was. Past tense. Everytime I think about what happened, I lose myself. My closet. That's wear my refuge is. Sit, and calm down. I have to tell myself this over and over or else I will begin shaking and I'll go too deep. Where's it at? I always begin to freak out when I can't find it. Ah, there it is. Grasp it. Do the deed. Ah. Now I'm better. The sting, the burn, I love it. I can breathe now, I'm still alive. But he's still dead, I whisper in my head. Another slash. More stinging and burning. The crimson line flows down my arm. Just another five minutes in the life of a depressed and abandoned teenager.