• “Danny, it’s over.” His words echoed in my hollow head. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t feel, I couldn’t see. I couldn’t do anything. One year had passed since the first time we met. And he threw our future away. All of our memories, all of our stupid inside jokes, I was shattered. I sat in my room with no lights, and a black sheet over the window. I didn’t eat, I didn’t sleep. I just sat in the corner of my room listening to our song. Over and over and over it played. I couldn’t cry, I was empty.

    “Danny?” My mom said as she knocked and walked into my room. I didn’t look up from the slices on my arm. “Danny, I made you some pizza. And I brought you slim Jim’s. I know you love them. Honey, please eat something.” She went on. I stared at the floor and brought my knees to my chest. I looked up at her with my pale face and black eyes. Tears welled up in her eyes and she kissed my forehead, and then left without a word. “Danny, I love you. Let’s go to Vegas and get married.” His words screamed in my ears, and the tears exploded out of me like Niagara Falls. I took the razorblade I found in our garage and stared slicing again. It hurt so badly, but it was a placebo. I wanted to scream, I wanted to scream so loud that I would lose my voice. I wanted to cut; I wanted to cut so much I wouldn’t wake up from the crimson sea I drowned in every day. I wanted to cry, I wanted to cry so much I physically couldn’t cry another tear. I thought about suicide every day. How I would do it, I had no clue. But I knew I was going to do it. Now.
    I put on Justin’s sweater and carved his name into my arm with my razorblade. After I’d located a tree outside in our yard, I ran in the house and grabbed a belt. My mom was asleep on the couch, my sister was at her boyfriend’s house, and my dad was at work. My one and only chance. I quickly made myself a makeshift noose and climbed up on the stool. First I screamed at the top of my lungs and then I hooked the belt around my neck and kicked the chair. It was quick; I was dead in two minutes.

    Though I was dead, I could hear my mom’s scream. I could see her tears and the agony in her face. I could feel my body being removed from the tree. I could taste the blood that spilled out of my nose. And I could smell Justin’s scent on the sweater my body was wearing. Death is peaceful. Death is reality. Death is an escape.