Cassidy knew what she was doing this time. It almost hurt to know it had gotten this far. Almost. She looked down at the scars on her skin, she should have known from the very first cut that this was going to be the end of her; it just felt too good. Every time her father smashed an empty bottle on the ground, letting the brown glass paint the floor, she knew it would only be a matter of time before it all became too much. The small cuts from the past were nothing. No, this was real. The razor was just begging to slice into her wrists, so deep it would force the blood to the surface; killing her. It sounds scary, but that’s what she wants, isn’t it? To die. She didn’t want to grow old, only to have her life stolen from her before she wanted to give it up. No, she wanted to give it away. She wanted to be the one to say it was the end. And now, as her father beats dramatically on the door to their bathroom, yelling slurred profanities and meaningless threats through the wood, she knew this was the best time to do it.
She looked at herself in the mirror and took in all her imperfections. She saw her mousy brown hair that was too flat and useless to ever be considered lovely. She touched her pudgy cheeks, and stared at her flat chest. There was nothing beautiful about her. How could she live her whole life looking as if she was bred into a scary movie? That’s not what she wanted.
They always say it will get better, and she believed them, but that’s not what Cassidy wanted. Cassidy didn’t want to live a happy life because there is always that pain in the back of your mind that is so apparent it destroys you. She didn’t want it to get better. She wanted it to end. Because if she didn’t, then one day she would be forced to leave the happy life she forced herself to have and all that happiness would simply not exist anymore. Cassidy didn’t want to be taken, she wanted to go.
She felt her knees bend as she sat herself on the icy floor of her bathroom. She leaned her head back against the door, feeling her drunken father beating against it. She heard his words, telling her she was pathetic and weak. She had heard that before, from herself. She knew it was true. She didn’t need to hear it from him.
She looked down at the razor, it was so beautiful. The cold metal looked radiant against her skinny, pale fingers. Silver; her favorite color. Not gray, no. Silver. The way it glistened in the light of fixture above her head let her know that it would be there for her like always. Right until the very end. Her eyes began to cloud up as she thought back to her life; the one she would be ending in only moments.
She used to think she was in love. But love can’t exist in this broken world. Love is only a myth. So, she let go of that idea and has been running from it ever since, trying to escape the scary lie of love. If she let herself fall in love, she’s practically holding the knife he would use to rip her heart one day. Love doesn’t exist.
She squeezed tightly to the only thing that could truly stay with her forever; the razor. It cut into the palm of her hand and she smiled. The red looked so perfect against the silver. She needed more though. More red; more blood. She could hear her father again, this time she noticed a bit of panic lacing his voice.
Good. She whispered. She was hoping her pain was ruining his binge. Drunk; that’s all he would be. He wouldn’t stop her from doing this tonight, though. He had seen her cuts before, she knew he had. He never said a word though. Just kept drinking; and now it was too late for him to stop her. She caressed her healed scars, and scratched at the scabs. It’s almost over... The razor seemed to call out. It wanted the pain to end for her; her only true friend. She trusted it.
She closed her eyes as she cut down her wrist, deeper as she went. This wasn’t a normal suicidal cut, across her wrist. One that would leave her in pain but still living; no, she had done her research. Down not across. She was going to do this right with no chance of recovery. And, as she pressed deeper, ripping her skin with the metallic cause of her death, it felt so good; almost euphoric. To have the blood seeping down her arm and licking her skin, sucking the life out of her and ending her pain, was magical. It was warm and cold at the same time. The smell of the thick red liquid pushed its way up her nostrils, working as an anesthetic and causing her to drift off. This was it. Just a little deeper and she’d be gone, and no one would have to worry. She just hoped the note she left would be a satisfactory explanation to the boy she once thought she loved.
It would have to do, of course, because the razor had done its job. It ended her pain, and it felt so good. It gave her the best ending moments anyone could ask for. They had done it; together. And as her body fell neatly into the river of her own blood, the razor remained in her hand.
Right where she wanted it to stay.





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Drake knew his life wasn’t perfect. Everyone has a few issues here and there, right? It would be criminal to say he didn’t have any himself. Today was going to be perfect, however. They say that falling in love is dangerous, and that keeping it up is a suicide mission of the heart. But, that wasn’t the way he felt. Not today at least. He knew she had been upset a lot recently, and he wanted to help her. He wanted to be the one to make her smile again, because it had been so long since she had.
Cassidy’s father was a terrible man, and Drake knew just how deep his words sunk into her. They pierced her heart and ruined just about every ounce of joy she could force out of herself. He couldn’t imagine how terrible it must feel to have your own father choose alcohol before you. He couldn’t imagine the pain she went through every time his fist touched her face. Drake almost wanted to beat the s*** out of him every time he saw him. But, Cassidy was not happy with that idea at all. He’ll kill you, Drake. Don’t. He heard his girlfriend’s words ring in his ears. If it weren’t for her disapproving thoughts, he would have laid into him a long time ago.
Last night was the first night Cassidy had been home without Drake in weeks. And the thought of her being there without him scared him senseless. And, as he walked up to the door of his love’s house, he could only imagine the damage done by her poor excuse of a father. He silently prayed that it wasn’t anything too serious. Nothing he would need to escort her to the hospital with.
“She’s in the bathroom. Been locked in there for hours. Hmph.” The man said as he answered the door, not giving Drake a chance to say a word.
He thanked the man with a simple nod as he took in the strange thought of his girlfriend locking herself in a bathroom for hours. It was extremely unlike her. He ran towards her bedroom, checking in there first, hoping maybe the alcoholic had just been mistaken, but all he found was an envelope on her pillow with Drake scrawled messily on the outside.
That’s when he knew. He didn’t need to check the bathroom. Because he already knew what her father was too lazy to catch. His girlfriend was dead. For hours, he said she had been in the bathroom and he hadn’t noticed? He hadn’t realized that this was the end? He was pathetic.
The question now was whether or not he was to enter into the room holding the love of his life’s corpse, taking in the stench of her lifeless body. Did he really want to see her that way? Dead. He wanted to remember her alive, and breathing. Not dead and rotting. But, it was almost inevitable. He had to let her know he was there. Even if there wasn’t enough life in her to hear him, or any life at all actually. He opened the envelope, peaking inside.
There was a piece of small paper and a key. He lifted the note out of the now useless envelope and felt himself breaking as it became all too real that this was really happening. He was standing in the house of a woman he had dreams of spending the rest of with, and she was rotting in the other room. Broken wasn’t even an adequate word to describe the way his heart felt now. It was dead; as it had died with her. His eyes spilled over with tears as he read:

Drake,
I’m sorry. Love is but a myth, my darling. There’s not a bit of truth to its story.
The key will give you goodbye. Try not to forget me. Leaving doesn’t permit a wish to be forgotten. It all gets better, or at least that’s what they kept telling me.
xoxo
-Cassidy.

She didn’t understand exactly what she had done. She had taken away his life when she took away her own. He felt his world crumbling as he crashed to his knees; he wanted to scream out in pain but decided against it when he heard her father enter the room.
Drake turned around, and he couldn’t believe that this was the man that ruined his precious, beautiful Cassidy’s life. He destroyed her and a made her think that dying was the only answer to save her broken life. So many times had he wanted to just break his face in and never look back. This man deserved to die. Not his Cassidy.
Drake had almost built up enough restraint to speak to the evil, wretched man in front of him, but the words that released from the alcoholics lips broke any restrain he had. “She finally did it, huh?” He didn’t look sad. He didn’t even look as if he were really interested in the answer, and that set Drake on fire.
“YOU KILLED HER!” He yelled, standing up. He couldn’t pretend to be nice to the man anymore. No, that wasn’t in the plan any longer. Cassidy was gone, and now he had no one to answer to. No one to warn him of what the older man was capable of.
And, it was too late for even a second thought and he ran towards Cassidy, his love’s, cause of death. He planned to ram his fist into the face of the man that had so many times hurt a girl who had only prayed for his love. But, things never go the way they were planned. They never happen exactly the way they’re thought out in advance; especially on such short notice.
He barely even felt it; the knife. It came in and out so quickly, barely even enough time for him to notice it had been there. It was amazing how it worked out that way. His body was so surprised that it stunned his death into silence. Right into his heart, the blade had slipped right in. Looking back on it now it was probably because his heart was already broken that he hadn’t felt the wound; after so much pain one begins to forget it.
When his heart stopped, and his eyes closed that was when he realized that love really was for the broken. That Cassidy had been right when she said it wasn’t real. He was stupid to believe that ‘love conquers all.’ It wasn’t real enough to keep either of them alive.
Love is but a myth, my darling.