She was lying on her back, on top of her bed staring at the glow in the dark stars on her ceiling. The thin silk of her comforter underneath her, sticking to her bare legs.
Her eyes slowly welling up with warm tears as the blood trickled down her arm. Not making a move to wipe it away, she lay there, a tear slowly making its way down her warm cheek.
The throbbing in her arm wasn't going away, the music she was playing in the background was slowly coming to a close. The blood travelled onto her comforter, dying the pink of her comforter a deep red.
The pain was unbearable, but her arm lay there, her not daring to touch it, in case the pain went away.
She liked the pain. It was welcomed.
She clenched her eyes shut to try and disappear, much like when she did when she was younger, and all she could hear were her parents screaming at each other.
It didn't work this time. She was 18, not 8.
The room was deadly silent, except the slow buzzing from her CD player, which she had not yet turned off.
The tears began trickling down her face at a rapid pace, but herself, not making a sound opening her eyes still staring at her ceiling.
The window blew open, her blinds softly swaying towards her, the roar howling of the wind surrounding her, making her bare arms shiver.
Even better.
A gust of wind knocked a picture frame beside her straight to the floor, smashing it into a million pieces with a loud crash.
She didn't flinch, continuing to stare at the ceiling.
Her arm was numb now, the blood subsiding, drying onto her skin.
She was in her own daze, all alone, thoughts running through her head, not being able to carry the weight of a heavy world.
Her eyes were beginning to close, her thoughts slowing, and her tears slowly dripping down off of her chin.
The darkness of the night sky seeped through the windows, casting a shadow throughout her room. The bright red numbers of her clock turned 10.00pm.
Her eyes completely closed as a letter lay beside her head.
He thought it was best to leave his little girl a letter expressing his feelings towards his situation.
She was about to go to college. She didn't need him anymore. She could visit him whenever she wanted. He'd call her everyday. She was on a weekend break so he couldn't say goodbye in person. He was sorry, and he didn't mean to hurt her.
He hoped things would work out all right. But Gloria and the hospital needed him. And they were in Seattle.
Her best friend had just died and he had left her.
Seth had lied to her.
And now she was all alone.
Her body was limp as all her muscles relaxed, covered in Goosebumps as the cold engulfed her underwear-clad body.
The razor slipping slowly from her hand, falling onto the floor not making a noise.
She didn't hear the front door opening.
She didn't hear the soft footsteps coming up the stairs.
She didn't hear her bedroom door opening.
She woke up to her boyfriend clutching onto her, pulling her into his lap, sobbing hysterically.
She pulled him into her, releasing her own tears as he held her arm and softly traced his fingers over her wound.
The photo of Summer and her dad, lying on the floor smashed, broken.
Just like Summer herself.