The Lonely Girl...

There was once a girl. She was always kind and caring. She took care of people and made them smile, no matter the cost to her. She hurt herself to make those around her happy. Only to have them leave her when they had recovered. She did not drink, she did not smoke, she did not give herself away. Instead, every night before she fell to slumber, she cut herself as she cried alone and sacred.
     She wanted death; she longed for him. Walking through the grave, she was envious of the decaying dead.
“Want to trade?” She would ask them, receiving no reply.
     Walking through the halls, she hides her pain, for no one can know. But she knew that no one cared, yet she still hid her agony from them. They couldn’t see through her mask of smiles and forced laughter. No one sees her scares or the blood running down her arms.
     Alone, red, and sad she went on. No one knowing, no one caring. One day she dared to ask for help. They only laughed her off, saying, “It’s just a phase.” Or “Stop looking for attention.” Why does she hurt herself, kill herself to make them happy? What has she done wrong? Years of pain and sorrow had caused her to become numb. Her “friends” ask “Why are you so different?” or “What happened to the girl we used to know?” She would never give them a relpy, for she knew they did not truly care for an answer.
     Silent tears fall through the wind. Cold and forgotten, she laid on her bed, wishing she could remember the last time she was truly happy.
“Where did my smile go?” She would ask. “Where had my laughter and joy run to?” She would wonder when the last time she truly laughter was. She could not remember that long ago. Instead she thinks back through all the tears and bracelets made of scarlet. Her heart beats and tears flow. Her mind was then made. And so, picking up her blade she smiles. A real smile. Her cheeks unaccustomed to the muscles.
“Hello, again, my friend.” She said to it. “Shall we sore down one more river?”
     The blade seemed to smile back at her in response. Its smile sharp and deadly, beautiful and welcoming. Her tears began to slow as she pulled the blade up her arm once more, only this time, she did not hold back. She pushed the metal deep into her skin and muscles. No long did she wish to walk across the stream, but to glide down the scarlet river.
“What lies beyond, at the end of the river?” She wondered as her heart slowed and her vision began to fade away into the black pit she was no stranger to. Yet she as not scared, she was calm and at peace. She began to laugh, weak and whispered.
“I am at peace, now at death.” She spoke, her voice nothing more than a faint whisper
     They buried her on the far side of the cemetery, alone and quiet she lies. And on her grave are the last words she had said to them.
“They once asked what had happened to the girl they once knew. Here is your answer, my friends….You killed her.”