A blade, twisted and corrupt sat upon her vanity. The desk's lamp causing the blood stained blade to shine dully. In the corner of her room, she sat upon her mattress. Knees were drawn up to her chin, faint tears falling slowly down her cheeks. She was a reject. She was useless, talent less, unwanted, uncared for. It was long ago she had lost faith in everything that once mattered to her. She had come to the realization that she had been alone all along. It had been the blade that had held her hand, helped her, and offered her comfort. Outwardly she acted happy, a smile spread over her features a faint, fake twinkle in her eye. A selected few could pick out the act and silently sympathized in their own way. Wiping the tears furiously from her eyes, she glanced down at the faint scars slowly mounting on her left arm, legs and abdomen. A couple relatively new cuts stuck out in an angry red against her pale flesh. Her eyes were dull, glassy looking. She was in her private world, no one could hurt her there, although it was in this world she managed to hurt herself. It was all too often that her parents pushed her this far, did they not see what was happening? No of course not. The marks were mainly in hidden areas, mostly her abdomen and legs. Why? Because that's where it hurt the most.

Her stereo's speakers blared out Tourniquet by Evanescence. She faintly murmured the lyrics 'I tried to kill the pain but only brought more. I lay dying, and I am pouring crimson regret and betrayal. I'm dying, praying, bleeding and screaming. Am I too lost to be saved? Am I too lost?"

"My God, my tourniquet, Return to me salvation. My God, my tourniquet, Return to me Salvation!"

Lips would add emphasis on the 'I WANT TO DIE' meaning it fully, then returning quietly to the other lyrics. "My wounds cry for the grave, my soul cries for deliverance. Will I be denied? Christ-Tourniquet-My suicide."

- My suicide something she wondered about. Hoping her malicious habits would soon be the end of her; so that she could finally end all the bullshit they subjected her to.

Her deadened gaze looked over the ribbons from numerous horse shows that hung on her walls. A snide smile graced her lips. Another thing that was meaningless to her now. She thought about her horse, the one thing that normally stopped her from ending everything.

"You've betrayed me on too many times." her words came out in a choked whisper, seeming to be directed only to the air." Are you happy now?" A fresh stream of tears rolled down her face as she looked to the ceiling, seeming to be looking for God. Her shoulders shook slightly. The voice in her mind, the one that urged her to welcome the blades solace, was telling her that tonight would be the night.

"I can stop the pain, If I will it all away." more Evanescence lyrics escaped her. Whisper (origin).

Desiderata- the old church document that her friend Daniel had e-mailed her had once helped when she was in this mood, but had no effect now. Subconsciously she new he'd be devastated to hear the news over the schools P.A. system the next day, or at least she hoped he would be.

She had no control over her mind or body at the moment. Only the voice ruled. Slowly her body rose from the bed, and walked to the vanity. Unseeing eyes looked at the blade for a few moments. Slowly her uncontrollable hand picked up the knife, hold it by the blade instead of the handle. The sharp steel bit into the soft flesh of her hand. She took no notice of it. She returned to her bed. A contorted, malice filled expression was on her face as the voice forced her to think of how much hatred was directed towards her. It caused her to drag the knife along her arms. Dark crimson lines formed immediately as again her body was crying. Next the blades bite traveled over her heavy stomach, on the side of her hip and over her legs.

"This is it." The voice whispered to her as adrenaline rushed to the pooling wounds.

She nodded slightly. " I've asked for your help, you have done nothing but betray and ignore me. Well I hope you're happy now. It's over. I am better off dead!"

Slowly she carved the words "You're too late" across her stomach. The blades edge had been darkened with blood. Her left hand took up the knife, and pressed it to her right wrist. Applying even, deep pressure, she drug it across the paperish skin, slicing deeply and into the purplish-blue veins. The immediate pain was excruciating, and blood pumped out quickly. Within seconds her hand was slick with the sticky red substance. She took the knife into her shaking right hand, completing the same ritual to her left wrist. As adrenaline and platelets rushed to the wounds, the pain numbed until she couldn't feel it any longer. The only thing she could feel was the blood rhythmically pumping from her wounds. Quietly she lay down, eyelids drawn over oceanic blue eyes. There she laid, blood pooling around and under her. After a few moments darkness began to overtake her.

'Christ - Tourniquet - My suicide' weak lips whispered as the C.D. began to skip over and over to that part. Now everything was black.