A/N: this is dedicated to a friend, a little dark (okay pretty dark I suppose?), and OC but oh well, I wanted to write it so here it is! Enjoy!

Please review, any thoughts or criticisms are welcomed :)

She was lost. Her mind wandered, nothing and no one grounded her. She thought she would never be good enough for anyone; that she was a mistake, that she had no meaning or reason to be alive. She drew on her skin with a knife, her blood her favourite crayon.

Everyone thought she was a happy girl with no cares in the world. They were wrong; no one knows what happens behind closed doors. Behind closed doors people are themselves, no acts are staged, no feelings faked, people show there true colours.

She had vowed to herself a long time ago that she would never open the door to anyone, allow them in, she'd convinced herself that anyone she let get that close would run a mile, get scared off by the thoughts continuously taunting her in her mind, freak out when the scars both physical and emotional were shown.

No one would understand she thought, no one would bother giving her the time of day, she was ugly, fat, pathetic and didn't deserve to inhabit the planet anymore, everyone would be better off she thought.

She was wrong.

She wasn't lost; she was just looking in the wrong direction. Her mind wandered because she didn't focus on the positive only the negative. She was good enough for so many people, the one's that didn't value her were only jealous. She was beautiful. She wasn't a mistake, she had a meaning, she had a reason to be alive, it just wasn't clear yet, like all the people her age in the entire world.

She found a friend. She told her friend about her scars, she showed her the blades she used as pencils on her skin. Her friend helped her to stopped, encouraged her to talk about her feelings, to draw with a pencil rather than blade.

Her friend accepted she wasn't perfect, neither was her friend. She opened up her door to that one friend and allowed her in, her friend found out who she really was, and to be honest, her friend loved her more for that. Her friend showed her who she really was too.

The door was opened, her scars on display, the thoughts that previously had taunted her were quietened, and her friend hadn't run. She was understood, she was loved and cherished, she was told that she was beautiful, that she wasn't fat, and that she deserved to inhabit the planet as much as anyone else.

And slowly, very slowly….she began to believe.