My life was anything but peachy. Ever since I was little, I was always abused, by a cousin of mine. I was only physically and emotionally abused. I got used to it, and just stayed away from him. Other then that, I led the typical everyday life of a child. When I hit 15, the summer before my sophomore year, something happened. My sister, the closest thing in the world to me, was raped. It was her first time. Not only that, but she was drugged at a party. It was my first real experience with how the world truly worked. I became very depressed, that's when I started scratching. Mainly just on the tops of my hands. Then, my two best friends decided that after 4 years, they were just too sick of me and that i was "too depressed" for them. So they spread rumors and I lost everyone. That's when I started getting closer to the man of my dreams, or so I thought. We became very close friends, and one day, started dating. He and I had sex, which he was my first time. I soon fell deeply in love with him. By this time, I was starting to cut because I was still depressed about my sister. My arms, stomach and hands were the victims. Soon, I found out that my best friend, my boyfriend, had cheated on me and lied to me about it. We had a horrible break up. That's when the cutting really took off. I started thrashing out on my legs and stomach. My arms were beginning to become noticeable so i moved down to my leg. I started popping pills as well. We had been together for over 9 months and were very close up until that point. That New Years, I decided i wanted to get away from my family and friends, so I took off down to Houston. I stayed with some "close" guy friends I'd known. I expressed how much I didn't want to get drunk, because of my sister's misfortune. They convinced me otherwise, and I got truly wasted. That night, I was raped by one of them. I was so hurt, my leg ached for a month and bled on and off. I slept a lot due to the pills I was taking at that time. By the spring, my family and I couldn't be in the same room without yelling. I was on the verge of suicide. Then, my youth pastor decided to send me away. Not away like my parents wanted, but he sent me to a boy scout camp to be a councilor. I thought it was going to be horrible, but it turns out it was the best thing for me.

While working there, I met two special ladies. One, is still close to me and we talk at least twice a week. The other, well, she passed away. Mary and I knew each other for about 3 weeks. =She was an awesome person, we shared a lot of the same past. She also popped pills and had experimented with other drugs and SI-ing. We did a lot of pills together, shared them as well as stories. We were room-mates as well as close friends. One weekend, she went home for a court-date that Tuesday. She asked me if i wanted any pills because she was getting some for herself. I told her I was good, but to be careful. She gave me that smile and promised to be back early Tuesday evening. Tuesday came, and there was a mandatory staff meeting that night. We walked to our room thinking Mary had gotten back just in time for the nightly yelling from our wonderful bosses (yeah, right). I walked in the door only to find our other roommate. So, we walked up to the dining hall, and sat down. Our boss walked in and said he had some bad news, that Mary had died. We found out that night from her best friend that it was an "accidental overdose." We knew it was accidental, because she and I had talked. She told me should could never leave her little bro behind. She couldn't stand to hurt him that way. That night, I swore I'd stop pills, smoking pot, cutting, and smoking cigs. It's taken a little, but every time I go to cut, I find an M on my leg, reminding me of her. I have her pill bottle to remind me of what killed her, and what would have killed me.

The thing was, if it wasn't for her death, I wouldn't be here. I was so heavy into the pills, I should have died already. I overdosed at least 4 times in two weeks, and almost died from a heart attack. Mary is my angel, she taught me to love life, and live it to the fullest. The night she died, there was a huge storm. It knocked out power three different times, making us all late for work the next day. She always told us she'd go out with a bang. Now, every time I hear a storm and the power goes out, I think of her, and see her laughing at all of us who will be late tomorrow for work.

I still struggle everyday, and I do sometimes slip with the pills, but I do not do many. I love Mary, my angel. I am here because of her.