Warning: Depression, mentions of suicide, violent language, and other, sensitive subjects are in this chapter. That being said, it is not suited for all parties.

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"Dear Father, I'm sorry I'm not your perfect little daughter. I'm sorry that I can't be a pretty little princess like you wanted. I'm sorry that I've done so much to hurt in so many ways, but I just can't stop. I'm so fucking sorry.

Dear mother, how can I tell you what I'm feeling when I don't even know myself?  I want you to know that I'm not ok, but I don't know how to tell you. When I say I'm fine I want you to tell me otherwise, tell me that you know I'm not.

Dear brother, I'm sorry I'm such a shitty sister. The stupid arguments we get into because my clothes are too baggy, and you ask me why? Why? I don't know! Maybe it's because a part of me wants you to see the cuts buried deep in wrists and know, just know, that it's not the cat!

Dear friends, you said you liked storms, that you could handle them. So I let you in. Turns out you can only handle a little rain, where as I am a raging hurricane.

People say that there's a rainbow at the end of the storm, but this storm has gone on so long that I don't know if it's going to get at all, or even if the rainbow is worth seeing anymore.

Day after day, I move forward because you told me that tomorrow held a brighter future, but night by night I waste my life away, staring at bleeding wrists as I look up and down my arms and legs at the cuts I have spread across my body like a disease.

How do I explain to you that I'm not tired, I just don't want to get up and face life's challenges because I don't know if I can over come them? When did the small bumps in my path become mountains?

You tell me to get rid of my demons, but why would I get rid of the only being that was there when no one else was? The freezing hot touch and blazing cold hugs are the only comfort I get anymore. You grew out of giving me good night kisses, and good-bye hugs.

I know now, that I truly am sad, because I've stopped loving the things I love. And although you may always care about my unworthy existence, I cannot return your feelings. For the scars on my arms and legs, they won't let me. Am I still beautiful, even if I look like carnage? My smile says happy, my eyes say pain.

Dear myself, where do I start? When I shattered your trust? The moment the thought of cutting came to mind you shouted 'no!'. The second I put the razor to my wrist and cut for the first time, you screamed for me to stop. As I continued, you sobbed and cried,' No, please! I don't want to feel the pain! I don't want to see the blood! I hate this, I hate this! I hate you!'. Now, I can't get you to utter a single word in protest, not even a simple 'stop'. Have you given up on me, too?

Suicide crosses my mind daily. I once told you,' One day, I'll kill myself', and you laughed. But if you found my body hanging from a noose, or bloodied on the bathroom floor, would you cry? Or would you laugh at that as well? Will you laugh at pain, just as you did before?

You all ask if I'm okay and my response is always 'yes, just a little tired'. And for once, just once, I want you to put your hand on my shoulder, look me in the eyes and say these words,' No, I know you're not. I know you're not okay, I know you're in pain and I want to help you. Don't lie to me. You are one of the most important people in my life and I care about to deeply that it hurts my just to see you in the slightest bit of pain. I will always care about you, and I'll never let go'.

But, people who have gone through the pain know, they know that it's never going to happen, people who are going through the pain wish, they wish for it to happen, and those who will go through the pain, will eventually learn it's all just a hopeless dream.

Signed,
The Girl Left Alone"

With that, everyone in the room looked at each other, realizing what they did, they'd done, and what they could've. But now, it was useless.

She was already gone.