Disclaimer: Nothing's mine.
I'm tired of trying, sick of crying, I know I've been smiling, but inside I'm dying.
Imagine this:
When you were a little girl, your life was perfect.
You loved your brothers dearly, as did you love your parents. They gave you everything you wanted, from material things, like that one doll you wanted to have for ages, to the love you so much craved for.
You didn't realize what a wonderful life you had until that very day. The deaths of two people meant your complete future. You didn't know it at the time. You heard about a car accident, involving a drunk driver and-
Your mother. And you couldn't do anything against it, though you wanted to.
Your life went downhill from that point. You saw your father changing really quick.
He wasn't the man you used to love anymore. He had been a beautiful, sweet and kind man when you were younger. He used to piggyback you, running around the house. He would pretend to be a knight then, and you were the princess that needed to be saved.
He didn't do that anymore. He would spend long days on the couch in front of the TV, leaving all the tasks in and around the house into your hands. You became your mother then, for your brothers, even if that hurt every day. You didn't have a choice.
Then, your father would end his life, feeling as if his life was the most miserable one in the whole world, while obviously, that was yours. And that became only worse when you found that you couldn't truly life without parents, despite everything you told yourself.
You could take care of your brothers and yourself for a short three years. On your sixteenth birthday, just a normal day like all the others, someone entered your house. The person asked for you, and told you that he was from Child and family services. He was there to inform you that you all four were going to be placed in a foster family. You and your brothers, who were everything to you that moment, were going to be separated.
The foster family tried everything to make you feel at ease, but no luck. You kept thinking about how your brothers must be feeling now.
You decided then that you wanted to become a cop. Fighting crime was the best way to let out all your frustrations, and soon, you were drowning in paperwork. And you loved it.
While everybody around you – friends from high school, neighbors, your brothers – got married, and got children, you swore that you would never do that. Your job was the most important thing in the world, and possible children would make your job even more difficult.
Then, when you finally could live with the fact that you were going to be lonely forever, someone entered your life. Someone who made you feel whole again, who made you smile and laugh and made you enjoy the world and your life to the fullest.
The man had many sad memories as well, and you could connect with him because of that. He became your best friend, you could tell him everything, and he told you everything too.
But then all the songs made sense, and you realized that your best friend wasn't your best friend: you were in love with him.
After that, all the stares, all the accidental touches and the smiles, they made you feel warm inside, they let the butterflies in your stomach make somersaults. He made it more difficult to be normal around him.
And then, all of a sudden, he left.
The lonely nights before you met him came back, and even the memories of your youth came back to haunt you in your sleep. You wanted him to be there with you, to hold you when the painful thoughts scarred your heart.
But he wasn't there.
Your world fell to pieces, for the millionth time in your life, and you were ready to kill yourself.
All of a sudden, he came back. Just like that. Had reappeared. And the butterflies were there again.
But you hated him. Hated him for leaving you, without letting you help him.
You couldn't stand looking at him, knowing that he continued with his life when he left you, while you were on the edge of suicide. He had slept with a woman, but it wasn't you.
He didn't want to talk about it. Denied everything that happened in those six months he'd been away. And you couldn't tell him what his parting left you with.
You were tired of being the cute, nice, friendly sister, friend, boss or co-worker. Sure, you were great to work with, people could tell you everything, but girlfriend material? No.
So that was why now, you were standing in your apartment, on one of your cheap chairs, a rope around your neck.
You're done with it, the everlasting feeling of guilt over your brothers, that you weren't able to take care of them. The everlasting love and adoration for the only good man in your life, but without him noticing or answering her love.
You turned around to look at the pictures of your brothers. They would be sad, but they would cope with it eventually. They would understand why you did it, they had the same memories of their past as you.
The only one who wouldn't understand you was the man you loved. But then again, he never understood you, didn't want to.
You pushed him out of your mind, and knocked away the chair. The last thing you saw was your mother's face, before everything went black.
A/N: I admit, this one was very dark, but I just felt like it. Don't ask me why.