Miranda Sanchez looked into the mirror, and flinched at her reflection staring back at her. She was a mess. Her cheeks were beginning to stain with tears, and she took a quick, hesitant look down towards her wrist. Her left wrist was still bleeding, cut by the pair of scissors she held in her shaky right hand.

This shouldn't have been happening, not to her. She knew cutting herself wouldn't make anything better. It wouldn't make the abuse at home go away, and it wouldn't make the fights at school disappear. But it was a temporary remedy. It eased the pain for a while, until she woke up the next morning, regretting what she did and vowing to herself never to do it again.

But the promises meant nothing to her, they were as useless as her friendship with Lizzie, they were something she would put trust in, but now everything fell to pieces right in front of Miranda's eyes. So she stopped believing in everything. In knowing Lizzie would always be there for her, in the family she once knew so well and loved. She climbed into the bath slowly and hugged herself, rocking back and forth.

Nothing could make it better. Not the pain she felt every time she was at home. The echoing screams of her mother shouting at her father, the pain of her father hitting her, the slash of the knife against her scarred skin.

Miranda didn't know what was worse, the fact that she didn't deserve any of it, or knowing just how alone she was. Nobody but her parents knew what went on inside the house, basically because if she told Lizzie, the whole school would know just how fucked up her life was by the end of the day.

What went wrong? When was the pinpoint moment that Miranda's life just suddenly became tattered and spun out of control? The days of laughing with Lizzie and Gordo were gone, as were the days of shopping, worrying about what Kate was going to do next to torment her, or whether Ethan would dance with her at some lame disco. But where did they go? Miranda didn't know, but all she had left were photographs stuck in a scrapbook, buried deep in her cupboard somewhere. And Gordo was gone too.

Gordo had done it. Gordo had the courage to push down the knife and end it. End it all. It was two years ago, at the end of year nine. He's just broken up with Lizzie and his parents were getting a divorce. On top of all of that, Kate had planted drugs in his school bag and told someone. Before Gordo knew it, he was out of Hillridge High School. Kate denied it after Gordo's suicide, but everyone knew that she did it, and the guilt must have been eating her up inside.

Miranda couldn't believe how much people could change in such a short time. You'd have to blame it on high school. Being introduced to new things, like drugs and alcohol, and lots of fucked up people who somehow pass it onto you. But you can't blame high school for suicide. So then who is responsible for someone taking their life?

Miranda sobbed and pressed down the knife. She was going to do it this time. She wasn't afraid anymore. No more pain. But it hurt, and her wrists stung. But slowly, very slowly, the pain bled away.

"It's your fault." Miranda looked up and saw Gordo sitting opposite her in the bath. His wrists, like hers, were covered in scars, and bleeding.

"My... my fault?" Miranda gulped, and began crying again, not really being sure of what was going through her head.

"You should have held on." Gordo said simply.

"I couldn't take it," Miranda replied, "It was too hard."

Gordo shook his head sadly, "Then it's your's fault. You've lost, just like me. You can't go back."

Suddenly Miranda regretted it. Regretted everything she'd ever done to harm herself. "It is my fault." She said soflty, in realisation.

"It's your fault," Gordo had tears rolling down his cheeks too now, "Because you weren't strong enough. I believed in you Miranda. I know you thought no-one did, but I was with you one hundred percent of the way."

"What can I do?"

Gordo gave her a small smile and took her hand, "There's nothing you can do."

Miranda got up and shook her head, starting to cry. She'd never cried so hard before. But the pain wouldn't stop, it just got worse and worse. And when she thought it couldn't get any worse, she looked down onto the bathroom floor and saw her body lying there, lifeless.

"No," Miranda said, under her breath, not believing her eyes.

"It's true," Gordo said, still sitting in the bath.

Miranda ran to the bathroom door and tried to open it, but couldn't. "You can't change anything." Gordo said. "You can't move a thing."

Just then, Miranda's mother could be heard on the other side of the door. "Miranda? Miranda, get out here now!"

Her mother's fists banged down on the door harder and harder, until finally she gave up. After hearing the sound of her mother fidgeting with the lock from outside for a moment, the door swung open.

The next few minutes passed in a blur, and Miranda walked backwards out of the room, watching her mother holding her lifeless body in her arms, crying.

"What now?" Miranda asked, facing Gordo in the hallway with tears in her eyes.

Gordo looked at her for a moment and sighed. "Now we wait for Lizzie. It won't be long."