A/N: Meh.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Summary: "Who am I?"


Red Ribbons

Staring at the silver blade, I knew my choice was made. Its silver shine glimmered in my eyes tempting me to do the unthinkable. Who am I to say that I couldn't take my own life? I know I could. Nobody loved me anyway. Reaching out to the silver blade, I stared at my reflection; my eyes watered without cause. I know it had to be done. I knew it. Choking, I looked around meeting the gazes of my friends whom were imprinted in photographs. Ah, yes, all the good times we shared but none of it was the same. I always felt left out because I wasn't one of them. One of them... right? I did everything to become one of them.

"You guys make me sick," I spoke aloud, to nobody. Gripping the blade tightly within my grasp, a tear slipped off my cheek and bounced of my hand. "No, I can't cry!"

Making my way through my flooded room floor, I ignored several shards of glass stabbing into my flesh. I didn't care if shards of vases stuck into my foot from housing beautiful sunflowers. I didn't give a damn. Pushing off a wall, my tears continued to slip down. Why the fuck am I crying? I made my choice to not cry and not give a damn about life! Slamming the door open, I was at the top of the stairs. Wiping away my tears, I made my way down the wooden steps staining it with red. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I looked around at my house; objects were scattered all over as if a bomb had just exploded. Glass was everywhere along with broken tables and chairs. I really did it this time. Walking toward a large mirror, I gazed at my pathetic self. Staring at my grotesque form, I couldn't believe I survived all these years being a social outcast. Nobody bothered to be my friend because of my big mouth. My brains took me nowhere as I was rejected from an Ivy League university. The scholarship I worked so hard to get was not granted.

"You are pathetic," I stated firmly staring at my lanky figure.

Why not do it?

I blinked. Who said that? Looking over my shoulder, I saw nobody. Not once in my life had I heard that voice dripped with malice and venom. Was... Was my time up?

You're a brave girl, do it.

The voices spoke clear to me. With another tear slipping off my cheek, my hand took control by itself. I flipped my left hand exposing my white wrist. In my right hand was the silver blade I saved all these years. Staring down at my wrist, I began to question: Could I possibly do it? Could I? What nonsense, I know that I could! If others were able to take their own lives, why not me? I was never one for suicide because I always assumed it was a cowardice thing to do but in actuality, it had to be done by the bravest soul. To jump off that ledge, to kick that chair away from your feet, to sleep in cold water, to drink that bottle of poison or to take this beautiful blade and glide it against untouched skin took courage. I don't give a fuck what others say about me; I've heard enough!

"I-I know I can do this!" I shouted.

Pressing the blade against my wrist, I hesitated. Why? The blade had not penetrated the skin yet I felt excruciating pain; it was pain erupting from my heart. All my decisions flooded me. I was flooded with guilt and in the same time, temptations of crossing over to the dark side. I was not going to step into the light. No. I refuse to. Of all the good things I've done and accomplished, it meant nothing.

My lips quivered, "I am strong."

Yes you are. Now, go on... Don't be afraid of what you feel. You'll be released. Free from everything.

Nodding, I pushed the blade deep into my wrist performing a sawing motion. Tears slipped down my cheek in uncontrollable streams but I wasn't going to give up. I wasn't going to give up until my eyes were closed for all eternity.

There, red ribbons slipped out of my wound onto the floor slowly pooling. It hurt so much. The wound was nothing compared to mental trauma I suffered. Nothing could be compared to it. All these years of lying to myself and giving myself false hope all came down to this very moment. For once, I would not lie to anybody and nobody else would be hurt because of the hurtful things I said. No more. Everybody would be better off without me...

Slowly, my vision began to blur. So, I guess this was it. My time came. I felt my body wavering side to side as my legs couldn't take it anymore. Collapsing on the floor, my head knocked against the mirror. Sliding down, my eyes were dry. No more tears. With what little to no energy I had left, I glanced over at my bleeding wrist. I tried moving my fingers and they moved, only to have more blood spill out of the wound. Smiling to myself... I could now sleep... for all eternity.

I'm sorry.


I thought I had crossed over but the light was not waiting for me. When I opened my eyes, everything was white. My head felt as if a boulder fell on me. Wiggling my big toe, I realized I was alive but barely. My next move was moving my fingers on my left hand. I managed to move my pinky finger but the rest were unresponsive.

"What were you thinking?"

Who... Who asked me this? A sudden jolt of pain rushed up my arm forcing me to wince. Unable to turn toward the voice, my eyes remained glued to the ceiling. Now it all came back to me:

"Who am I?"