This is based off of the beautifully sad song 'Her Last Words'.

Please check it out before reading.

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Did you?

Dear World,

I was always looking for my brother's approval. It's funny, because he was always looking for the approval of someone else. Our father really was the worst. Felix bent over backwards to try to make Father happy. As I write this, I can hear Father yelling at Felix again for something. It's kind of fucked up, really. Father was driving the car, but he wasn't the one to blame. The driver of the car that T-Boned Mother's side of the car is. Father blames himself, always has, and can't take that Felix and I both look so much like her. Me more than my older brother, because I'm a girl. The funny thing is that Father locked me away because he was afraid of losing me too. I was named after my mom. Stupid.

I hate this world. Hate that I was chosen. Out of all the people in Paris, why did I have to be picked to become the 'Famous Chat Noir'?! I couldn't take it. Piano, Chinese, English, Japanese, Spanish, fencing, every type of martial arts under the sun, modeling, school, acting, and now being a superhero?! What's next, juggling? Oh, wait, I started that last year. No friends, no one to help with the hundreds of burdens on my shoulders. Ladybug tries, I know he does, but he can't help. And to top it all off, I have to keep up a perfectly happy and carefree image, no matter who I am. This life is shot. Literally. (ha) No one will really miss me, anyone. Father would probably be glad. And Felix, too. The one who held the key to my heart (even though he never knew it).

I have so many masks. Model, Schoolgirl, Happy Daughter, Chat Noir. Countless others that I don't even have names for. I haven't felt love, or kindness, for five years, besides from my three friends.

Matt, the sweet, kind boy who was always ready to help; don't be too sad that I'm gone, okay? This is the end to my suffering. These marks I've left on myself, well, they were just me trying to take away my mental pain by giving myself some physical pain instead.

Ladybug, I knew who you were for so long. I think it showed in 'school me' when I interacted with you. Don't worry, I've already chosen another to take my place. One not so burdened by real life. I've always loved you, Ladybug.

Alya, Nino, don't worry. It was never anything you did. I just couldn't take life, is all. Also, punch Charlie in the face for me, okay? I want him to know how much I hated his creepy advances. Nino, you get all my videogames, okay? I want you to play them so many times they break. Alya, do a piece for me on the Ladyblog, okay? And you get anything you want from my room. And all my clothes.

I love all of you guys so, so much. Good bye.

-Grace Agreste/ Chat Noir.

She sighed as she read through the note for the fifteenth time. She shakily signed her names at the bottom of the page, and folded it neatly in half before taping it to the outside of her door after writing the words 'Read First' on the outside. She got out her white sleeveless white tank top, and her favorite pair of blue jean shorts. She wrote 'Bury me in this' on a notecard after she placed them on her laptop.

She then got on her oversized bed, and began to let her tears fall as she placed the six shot revolver to her head. Click. Not the bullet. BOOM. There it was. Her last thought was of Ladybug's sweet face.

BOOM!

The shot rang through the otherwise silent mansion. Felix stood up from his desk in the small bedroom next door to Grace's. He raced out the door, confronted by a piece of folded notebook paper that said 'Read First' in shaky handwriting on it. Grace's shaky handwriting. His worst fears were all confirmed as he read the paper's contents, his hands shaking so badly by the end of it that he had to set it down to keep reading. Wet droplets stained the handwriting of his beloved little sister. He reached a hand up to his face just in time to stop another tear from running down his face. He got up, shock subsided (for now) as he opened the door hurriedly, rushing inside to find her body sprawled next to her bed, blood staining the white bedsheets and the cream short-sleeve nightgown she wore. Tears soon joined the blood as Felix ran to his little sister, holding her head in his lap as he cried over her small, broken body. Over the cuts all along her arms and legs, and the sweet, happy smile on her face. Over the bullet wound, a simple inch wide hole above her right ear.

His scream echoed for miles.