Okay so I got a bran-spankin'-new idea. I've been reading this really amazing book and got the idea for a suicide-ish story. I'm still writing my other story - don't give up hope (if you're reading it) - I'm just sort of lacking idea's right now. I will be writing for that very soon, within the next few days. Promise! Now read this and please review, hope you like it!! I know it's pretty short but the following chapters won't be. I just wanted this chapter to sort of.. stand alone? Nothing else with it. Thanks!

Everything belongs to SM. I love her.

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"Goodbye, Dad. Have a good day at work." I called from the front door. "Love you!" It was something I never yelled. Something we never really said to one another, but today, I felt it was apropriate. I'm sorry.

I turned away from the door and closed it behind me. Stick to the plan, I thought. You can't be weak, not now. I climbed the stairs, slowly. I could not let myself chicken out. I could not go back to school, I could not face Charlie again. This was my best option, the best thing for everyone. I reached the top of the stair case. What now? I thought. Go to my bedroom? Should I do some last minute things? Call Angela? She was, really, the only person close to a friend that I had. My Mother, well, I would see her soon enough. Phil, too. I had no bets to say goodbye to. I had just said my last goodbye's to Charlie. Poor, poor Charlie. All I did was head to my radio and pop in a mixed cd that my ex-boyfriend from Phoenix had made me. Even. That bastard. Why did he have to have such good taste in music? I put it on full blast and let the music fill me.

I crossed the hall to the bathroom. I opened the cabinet attached to the wall. I looked at my options. I picked up a few different bottles and cases. The one that was the fullest and was most likely my best bet, I picked up and carried back to my bedroom. Thank god Charlie had sleeping problems.

I opened the bottle cap slowly. It popped off and fell into my sheets. I poured out the pills one at a time. There were fourty one out of fourty eight caplets.

I put three in my mouth. They were tiny little pills. I swallowed them with spit. I found a bottle of water on my nightstand, half gone, and took a sip. Then I took five more. I took a long sip of water. I put ten in my mouth and then, with water still in there, popped in two more. I swallowed hard. Then, I tipped my head back and took the rest, twenty one pills. I shoved them in my mouth, careful not to miss a single one. I chugged the rest of my water. I took a deep breath when I was done, because I had accomplished something. I had actually done it, just like I'd planned.

I stared at my bed, at the purple comforter on top. The little planted cactus that was sitting next to where my water once was. I opened a little jewelry box that was sitting underneath my night stand. I slid out a beautiful star necklace that my Mother had given me for my sixteenth birthday. It had a round moonstone in the center. The edges of the stars were pointy but I put it on, anyway. What the hell. I won't feel it soon enough. I sighed. I had thought this over many times, but had not really come to a decision of whether or not I really, truly, wanted to die. Too late now, I thought.

I looked over my room. Most of it was the same from when I was little. I brought a picture of Renee and Phil, my cactus, and a few odds and ends from my other room, like stuffed animals. The rest of the room was not mine. The whole house was not mine. Nothing in Forks was mine, at all.

I sprawled out on my bed, right in the center, and stared at the ceiling. I shut off the light, and then, slowly, I reached down to turn off the music. I felt a little wobbly. Was that my imagination? I raised my hand. It felt strange, looked strange. Everything was strange. I turned over in my bed, as much as I could under the weight of the pills. I threw my head down on my pillow. It felt amazing. My music, blaring. It was wonderful. It sounded strange - did I hear a car door slam? Of course I didn't. Or maybe it was something I hadn't heard in the music before. I tried to pull the blankets over my head but my hand didn't feel like it was working. Maybe it was my imagination.I let my eyelids shut.

Re-opening them felt like such work. I just laid in my dark world listening to my music. If this is what death felt like, it wasn't so bad. I just felt really tired. Those are the sleeping pills. I tried to reason with myself. This wasn't death. This was the pills, working. Loads of people did this - did that this way.

My eyes felt like they had been locked shut. Even if I felt like opening them, I couldn't. But, I didn't want to. I loved sleep, and that's exactly what this felt like. I was just going to sleep.

I was going under. I would not return.

This was it.

I was now...

dead.

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Did you like it? Next one's will be longer.

Review please!