She can't stand it. She runs upstairs and shuts the door after her. She picks up clothes from the floor and furiously throws them into her closet. Every throw was a released bust of anger. She falls on her bed and cries. Tears flowed like a rapid river, seeming to never end. The tears slowed and her eyes dry. She could still hear the loud angry voices from downstairs. It made her want to cry even more, but all her tears were used up. She sat upright on her bed and looked at the dress hanging in her closet facing her. Her eyes moved down to the shoes that were to match the beautiful dress. Now new hot tears came up to wet her face again. She would never receive the chance to wear the dress with the matching shoes. Nor would she get to dance with the one she always longed to dance with. Her most awaited night was now ruined. Sadness turned to pure hatred. Her eyes scanned the room. She spotted a pair of scissors, sitting innocently on her desk. Scarves of every color hung on a hook in her crowded closet. A bottle of sleeping pills and every other kind of pill sat on her desk. She felt a breeze from her opened window. “So many ways,” she murmured to herself. A small smile played on her lips, the devil controlling her. Or at least that’s what she thought. A small cut, a noose, or even an overdose. So easy, so simple. The voices from downstairs once again carried themselves up to her room. She could remember the voices taunting her in her mind, “You’re a failure! You worthless piece of sh** can’t do anything in this house! Get the f*** out of my face!”
Hurt replaced anger. Her smile is gone. All she wanted was to be loved and accepted. She felt neither in her own home. Her eyes wandered over to the innocent looking pills. Something catches her eye and she turns to face it. It was a beautifully framed picture of her three best friends and herself. She felt ashamed. She reaches forward and holds the photograph in her hands. Tears fall and dampen the frame. How could she just easily end her life when friends like these loved her so dearly? Even if her own flesh and blood could not even look in her eyes, she still had amazing friends who are with her every step of the way. Ending her life also meant ending a part of her friends’ lives. She could not do that to them.
She wipes the tears off of the frame with her sleeve and puts it back in its original place. She gets up from her bed, picks up the pills and throws them in the trash. She picks up her cell phone next and dials her friends just to hear their voices. From all the screaming and yelling from downstairs, she only hears one thing, “Hello?” She smiles and knows that when one light burns out, another always takes its place.