• He sat there on his bed,
    Eyeing the shiny knife in his hand and the pulsing vain in his wrist,
    So easy it would be so easy to do it.
    He looked at the pictures around him a picture of his parents; they made him do this with out him they wouldn't be constantly fighting,
    his brother, he made him do this he never card about the boy and only wanted to show how much better he was,
    He looked at the picture of the friends, who he loved with all his heart and would do anything for, they caused him to do this even though they knew he cared about him they broke his heart and left him to bleed they didn't want who he was only what he had pretended to be before another layer of his soul had been torn they had abandoned him in his hour of need,
    He held the blade to his vain and then began to draw it back,
    Suddenly her face burst through the haze of self-hate and hurt her face melted the ice of his heart and slowly begin to sew it back together,
    He sees her in black her beautiful face tearing her head bowed at his coffin side,
    Forgetting the knife he begins to sob accidentally pressing on it drawing small amounts of blood, which is washed away with his tears.