• I sit silently, staring at the cieling in my room. When did everything go wrong? When did you stop loving me? Did I love you enough? Did I show you that I cared? Many questions swam in my head. Thoughts. Tears. Sadness. I'm a jumbled mess. Was it my fault? I sit up, wiping the tears from my eyes, hugging my knees to my chest. I cared about you. A lot. I guess I didn't show it enough. Maybe I wasn't pretty enough. Maybe it was just me. I stood up, walking into the bathroom. Peering at myself in the mirror. My multicolored hair is messed up, my eyes are red an puffy from crying for hours. What do you do when you look in the mirror and staring at you is why you think you're not here? I look down at the sink, turning on the cold water, splashing it on my face. I look back up at the mirror, and frown. In the second drawer. Your old pocket knife. I open it, and take it out. I stare at the shinny surface, as I flip it open. I gulp, bringing the sharp metal down on the skin on my wrist. I start to slice open my wrist. Cutting it all the way up to my elbow. The blood makes me dizzy, I woozily collapse to the floor. I stare at the crimson drops as they stain the white tile floor. I lean back on the bath tub, staring at the ceiling again, before my eyes drift shut. Maybe for the last time.
    11:11 my last breath as I slip from earth's grasp. I hope your happy now. 6:30 in the afternoon on the next day. My brother finds me. He stares at me, tears come to his eyes. He knows whose fault this is. 11:11 Make a wish darling! You're dead. My brother's in jail. You're in hell. I'm in heaven. My brother's a wreck. What happened to us? It this all my fault? Was it my fault you left me in the first place?