Eventually, over time, the scars will begin to fade. They will turn a slight purple, but in time, become white and almost invisible. The scars will then only be a faint memory of the battles fought and lost. They will seem a distant memory, one that will be locked away for good, never to be opened by anyone.

Eventually, the memory will unlock itself and come flooding back in. The memory will attack everything you hold dear in your life. It will run rampage over your soul, destroying you in its wake. You won’t want to give in, and maybe for a while you will fight back. But after some time you’ll look at where the scars are almost gone and give up.

You’ll go to where you told your friend to hide the Altoids box of pills, razors, cigarettes, and lighters. You’ll know where she hid it because you never really closed your eyes that day. You’ll grab the dusty box that should hold mints and sit down. It’ll open as if by your touch. You’ll finally breathe after 6 months. You’ll let out that painful breath and soak it in.

And the demon.

That demon inside you will laugh and sneer at you in your face. You’ll clench you fists, ready to defeat it, but you won’t. You’ll admit that it’s right. You’ll feel like you are drowning but the box in your hands will be your oxygen. You’ll want to cry, but nothing will come out. You’ll get up off the floor and scribble a quick note. Not apologizing or explaining, but to say a quick and brief goodbye. You’ll want to tell them that you are happy now, but you don’t, because you can’t remember what happy is anymore.

You’ll take the cup of water that you don’t remember getting in one hand, while the other tosses all 70 pills into your mouth. You’ll remember you got 10 of each: Adderall, Benadryl, Topamax, heart meds, and finally, Xanax. You’ll wonder if all of those mixed together will surely kill you so you’ll take the fresh razor and press it into your skin, almost backing out of it. But then you will go into the bathroom, feeling very tired as the hot water fills the tub. You’ll strip out of your clothes, razor in hand, and sink down into the scorching water. You’ll feel the water like a thousand needles poking at your flesh. Then, with razor in hand, you’ll glide it down your wrists instead of the familiar across you usually do.

You’ll see the blood pour out and blot the hot water. You’ll feel light headed as your heart slows down and blood fills up the tub. You’ll finally feel free, freer than you ever have before. You’ll stop fighting the feeling of death and close your eyes, ready to move on to bigger and better things. You’ll remember every word that anyone has ever said to you and feel violent hatred. But you won’t care, because your heart has stopped and you can hear the screaming of ambulance sirens.