Disclaimer: Its pretty obvious I don't own this.

Prologue: Leaving

Frodo's POV

I woke up three hours before midnight drenched in a cold sweat, my whole body paining everywhere, but it soon started to fade once I remembered I had just awoken from another freak nightmare. They'll never go away. Which is why I'm leaving. I just hope Sam won't beat himself up over it.

Anyway, it's much better this way. Because of all the stress and everything, there were a lot of arguments, including not just me and Sam, but also Merry and Pippin, my cousins who also accompanied me on the Quest. I had also broken Pippin's arm and said terrible, heart-breaking things to him and Merry. See what I mean? If I'm gone, everything will be back to normal. Well, sure, Sam will be lonely, what with Rosie dying and all, but he'll get over it. I don't think Merry and Pippin won't care, I know it. I mean, who would love a piece of junk like me?

I scrambled out from under the covers and walked down the hallway into the bathroom. Wow. I was looking into the mirror. I looked horrible. Dark purple bags under my eyes from fatigue and lack of sleep and my face just looked...dull. Disgusting. Nobody can ever love you except for your parents. If you're wondering why nobody asked me if I was okay, I'm going to answer that right now. They never noticed, because I always applied concealing cream all over my face everyday. Well, sure, the Gaffer would look at me sometimes, as if pitying me, but he never did anything. No one did. I'm just a waste of space.

Okay. Let's get this over with.

Wrists, check.

Upper arms, check.

Thighs, check.

Stomach, check.

I had been cutting since we returned to the Shire. I had been so desperate the first thing I did was find a kitchen knife and run it down my arm. The first time I took pain in pleasure. Now that I'm leaving, I can do it in peace. Maybe even kill myself. But if I did that, there would be more rumours that I'm just a freak and I suicided just for attention. I can't have more reminders of me. I pulled at my hair, frustrated for no reason. I'm just a broken, misunderstood mess. I live on pills and my faithful penknife some stranger had sold to me. I know what you're thinking. At first, my brain is like this, "How do you know they don't care? Its only natural that family loves family! And you've known Sam your whole life!" But when I tried to talk to them, they were all busy. Nobody had no time for me.

Just to let them know I was sorry for being such a burden, I wrote all three of my friends a personal letter, letting them know I loved them, even if they didn't feel the same way. I could probably say that Sam's letter was like the longest I've ever written.

"Goodbye, everyone." I whispered softly as I slowly lowered myself out of the window, tears pouring down my face. Its unbelievable how a destroyed person like me can still cry.

Because that just proves how weak and pathetic I am.