I watched her from the hall, the bottle was in her hand, and she had this look in her eyes. That look said determined. She stood in front of the mirror in the corner of her room, almost evaluating herself, and gave a look of disapproval. She toyed with it in her hand and I watched as she pushed her hair back behind her ear. Letting the auburn waves fall to one side of her face. She sat down on her bed, before lying backward, still clutching the bottle. I watched her feet sway lightly over the side and I wanted to say something, but the words wouldn t come out. I felt like on the inside I was choking. She didn t see me, I guess she was caught up in her thoughts, so caught up she hadn t heard the front door open either. She isn t going to do it, I thought, she s bluffing, Hannah could never go through with it. I heard her let out a small gasp, and another, it was then I realized she was fighting back tears. I guess she didn t really have anyone to turn to. She was all alone. I was still standing in the hall, completely perplexed, what was I supposed to do? She slid onto her side and I saw a shudder run through her. Her voice became small; it was almost too frightening to bear, as she let out one word, why? then over and over she said it. With growing intensity she built on it, until it became a scream, and then like it started it just. Stopped. I could barely hear her breathing; she let out a small laugh, as if she d heard a terrible joke. Then suddenly, she got up from her place on her bed, I hid behind the doorframe. I was hoping she had realized I was there, praying she hadn t heard my footsteps, or seen my face. She walked towards her dressing table and picked up a photo. It was her. Before she got stood up by Marcus, before she cut her hair, or when she lost it at Ryan in the hall. She looked really pretty in the photo, so different, and it took me a moment to release what it was. She was smiling. I hadn t seen that in well how long had it been? A long time-I guessed. She was rosy cheeked, dressed up and posed next to someone I didn t recognize-not someone from school, that s for sure. It will be okay, things will be put right, she smiled to herself; but I didn t notice how empty the smile really was.
I let out a little gasp of relief. Of course it will be, Hannah, it will be okay, I thought naively. She dropped the photo on the dressing table and let the bottle fall into the trash can. She returned to her bed, and laid down-still smiling. There she said it again, It will be okay. That s when I left. I walked away. I didn t know what I was doing. What decision I was meddling in. I thought she would live. I thought she wanted to live. But as I walked out the front door she stopped breathing. I could have saved her. But instead I took her for granted again.