I didn't mean for my thoughts to take the unhealthy pattern that they did, it just happened. And because of it, my soul will wander the vast terrain of the U.S. for eternity while my body rots 6 feet under the ground.

I gazed around the halls of my school, bustling towards my locker that was a treacherous 15 feet away. It was the 10 minute break before class and everyone was either walking to class together, or standing around talking.

Everyone except for me. I was completely and utterly alone, nobody cared about me. My family and I didn't keep in contact, my parents never have the time, and my old friends hate me.

Loud music and large hoodies became my only friends, they concealed me from the horrifying world. It made my teachers angry when I couldn't hear them, but the class just snickered.

Life began to become an endless cycle; sleep, go to school, eat, listen to music, and then do homework until it was time for bed. If that didn't work, I would settle for reading dark books that had characters who suffered almost as much as I did.

I was pulled from my thoughts as some random kid shoved me into my locker, I could feel the blood started to trickle down my face. That was the first time that I had skipped class in a very long time.

I stopped going to school all together after being tripped while walking down the same hallway two weeks later. I'd leave the house as if I was going to the bus, so there wouldn't be any suspicion raised, and would walk to a dark alley and listen to music.

After a while, mom and dad informed me that they were thinking of getting a divorce. Which made my self esteem plummet even worse.

I ran into my room after they finished their speech, not being able to believe it. It hurt enough seeing my old friends walking by, laughing and enjoying each others company. Sometimes when I went to the alley I would see them taking pictures doing silly things, which is what we used to do.

Rachel/Rachelle and I used to match clothes in gym during 8th grade, everyone wore the same outfit but we would wear matching socks.

But once she was introduced to Ivy, I was dropped like a hot potato. My friends and I got in arguments almost every day, which is probably why it was so easy for them to ignore me. No more drama.

And now I was ripping my parents apart too? I couldn't take it anymore, "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" was playing as loud as it would go but even it couldn't comfort me.

Everything blurred out besides the knife that was resting on my nightstand. Mom had left me some steak for dinner last night, which I ate in my room, and I had forgotten to put my dishes in the sink.

My hands snaked across the comforter of my bed as I approached the knife, similar to a predator stalking its prey.

And I'm the only one and I walk alone, rang in my ears as the knife penetrated the skin of my wrist. That was the first of many slices against my skin.

Like before, I had been caught for skipping school. The car ride home from the office was long and awkward. Anger seeped from my mother in huge waves that was taken out on the poor people driving.

If someone didn't immediately respond to the light turning green, it would result in a series of honks until the car moved. If the car in front of her would drive to slow, then she would zoom around to the other lane until she was even with the cars window.

She would then proceed to flip them the bird as she sped up and moved in front of that vehicle. When we finally entered the house I was heading towards my room, but she quickly stepped in front of me.

"You're not getting off the hook that easily.." she said as she began her long speech. After a few minutes of yelling, my legs got tired and I sat on the bottom step of the stairs.

Which she must of thought as disrespect, and she slapped me across the face. I could feel the red mark starting to appear as my mother stared at me in shock and horror.

I ran up the steps, shutting the door and locking it as I slid to the floor. I didn't have to worry about her coming up and talking to me, she never cared enough to do that.

I knew that no matter how many cuts on my wrist I had created, it would never mask the pain I felt now. I had always deemed my parents as uncaring, but now I actually had proof.

My feet trudged to the computer as a dark idea formed in my head, my gut was telling me not to but my heart told me to go for it.

Mom and Dad,

I'm sorry, I just couldn't continue living any longer. Mom, don't worry about what happened. I forgive you.

I hope this decision will make your lives easier, and whatever you do..don't feel guilty.

Melinda

There were a million things that I had wanted to put in my final letter, but I knew I should just keep it short and to the point.

My body was found the following night, hanging from the ceiling fan by a cable cord. Usually a death in the family bring couples apart, but mine brought people together.

My parents relied on each other to understand the guilt they had, the reason they had remained a couple was because no one would be able to help them through this besides each other.

So that made me feel a bit better about my decision, even though my soul is forever confined to this Earth.