Ok, before you read this, I want to warn you that there is a pretty descriptive suicide in here. Don't read if you don't like suicide. I'm not sure if it's good, since I've never commited suicide (or I wouldn't be here), but this is how I would imagine it to be. It's a lot sadder than How to Save a Life, but I think it's pretty good. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Do you really think they would put this in a Disney movie? Therefore, I do not own Camp Rock.


I hate my life. I literally do. It's not that teenage phase where everyone says they hate their life. No, mine is like God just decided to fuck with it, see what happens. Oh look, you see that girl Nate is crushing on? Let's make her fall in love with something else. Yeah, fun.

I sigh and sit at my desk, looking at the homework I was assigned. It was dark because I didn't turn the light on, but I didn't want to be reminded that I was alive. The dark was one step closer to the final destination: death. I seem to welcome death nowadays. It can't be much worse than my life.

I close my eyes and think of what life would have been like if Mitchie had chosen me instead of my ex-best friend Shane. Not that he knows he's been demoted. I still hang out with him sometimes, but only if there is no way out of the plans. Mitchie's still my best friend though, she can't help who she loves. Although I wish it was me.

I hear the door open downstairs as my mom greets someone. Oh great, company. People to watch me suffer in silence.

My heart aches as I keep thinking about me and Mitchie.

"Hey, Nate," I hear someone say softly. I look up quickly as I recognize Mitchie's voice. My eyes widen as I see her stand there, leaning on my doorframe. She had this serious look on her face. "We need to talk."

Oh no. The most dreaded words in the world. I would be worried if we were dating, but-no, I wish we were dating. I don't care if she would break up with me, I just want to be with her, even if for a second. I stand up and shake my head, both trying to clear my thoughts and to say no to Mitchie. I try to walk past her in the doorway, shivering slightly from being so close to her, but she blocks my way.

"Nate, sit down, it's just a talk," she says, trying to assure me. Sure, it's just a talk. That's what they all say.

I sigh and turn my face away from her, trying to compose my features. The longer I'm in her presence, the less control I have over exposing my secret love for her. I turn around with a cheesy smile on, but it's the best that I can do.

Her intense stare makes me nervous, but I ignore it.

"Nate, I know what you want. But I know what's best in this situation," she finally speaks. My face goes expressionless. Does she really know? Oh God, please no.

"Shane and I are meant to be. I know I've only been with him for a month, but I can feel it," she says, tearing my heart apart. Now that she mentions dating Shane, I think she knows about my crush.

"Please, Nate. Tell me what's wrong. I don't want to go assuming things," she tries to get me to tell her. I ignore it and continue to look at her with a blank face.

She sighs and says, "Nate, you've been acting different since me and Shane got together. You've been depressed and you always wanted to spend time with me, but not if Shane would be there too." Oh snap, she noticed that?

"So if my assumptions are correct," she pauses, "You love me," she said simply. As if it was simple. "I'm sorry but…I don't love you. I think I love Shane." Now is the part where I really want to die. She knows. Worse than that, she doesn't want me. I couldn't keep my expression blank and let all my emotions go though my face.

"Okay," I say. "You're right. But please! You never considered us together. I need you to love me!" I raise my voice, hoping that she will give us a try.

"Nate, I'm sorry, but…we can't be more than just friends," she says in a low voice. I don't want to be 'just friends'. I hate those words now.

"We can't just befriends after this. Everything's going to change," I say. Can we really be friends now that the truth is out?

"Mitchie, either you are in my life as my girlfriend or not in my life at all," I continue. If she's not my girlfriend, I have nothing to live for.

"I just can't do this anymore. You're right, I have been depressed. Seeing you and Shane together is like a stab to my heart. I can't stand it," I confess, my voice quivering. I feel like I'm being murdered, the number of stabs my heart is taking has to be murder.

"I'm not the same person you met in 6th grade. Things have changed. I have changed into more than just a friend," I say while looking into her eyes, trying to see if she feels even the tiniest bit the same. I think I see a little bit of something, but she looks away.

She groans. "I'm sorry, Nate. I can't be with you. I'm with Shane. You're just going to have to accept it because it's not going to change. Come over tomorrow, we need to finish this, but I have to go," she says as she rushes out, as if she couldn't stand being near me for another second.

And now my heart is gone.


I shake as I walk down to the kitchen, probably about an hour after Mitchie left. I had been sitting in my room, just staring into space, trying not to feel anything. The pain was unbearable. I had to do something. I go to the counter and take a deep breath. There it is. The golden object. The thing that's gonna get the job done. A knife.

I carefully pick it up, examining it. It was really sharp, giving me chills. Am I really going to do this? Yes, I have to, I can't keep living like this. I know I should probably use a razor or something, but we don't have anything. I tiptoe upstairs, even though I'm home alone. My parents went out to dinner about 30 minutes after Mitchie left. I realize that I now calculate my time by when Mitchie left. Mitchie left.

I can't believe she chose that backstabber over me! Granted, he didn't know I like her, but oh well. What's done is done. I go into my room and lock my door. I feel really bad about my parents finding me, especially my mother, but I can't think about that now. Mitchie's rejection is still fresh in my mind. I get into my bed for the last time. The last time.

Oh my God! I'm about to kill myself. I will never be able to hug my mom again, or joke with my friends, or do anything ever again! I-I can't-no, I have to. I can do this. I repeat that mantra as I pull back my covers and slide in. If I'm going to die, I might as well die comfortably. I let out a sigh as I lie back, the knife still in my hand.

I know the quickest place would be my heart, but I don't want to stab myself, just cut. Another quick place would be my neck, the jugular or carotid, but I can't stand holding that knife up to my neck. I decide on slitting my wrists, the most common place. I take one last breath and hold it. Here we go.

I slowly bring the knife down, gently placing it on the inside of my wrist. I put on more pressure and some red comes out from underneath. I watch it in fascination as it rolls down my arm. The deep red against my pale skin looks amazing. If I wasn't about to die right now, I would take a picture or paint it. I could take a pic, my camera's right over there…No, my parents will probably go through the pictures, one look at the blood rolling down my arm and they will lose it.

"Forgive me, God, for I have sinned," I whisper. Even if He hates me, I still want his forgiveness.

I sigh and drag the knife across my wrist, pushing it in deeper. I gasp as I feel my skin tearing, but I keep it up. More and more blood comes tumbling out of my arm, pouring onto my sheets. I gulp as my vision gets a bit blurry. I think about stopping, but know that I have come too far. I have to finish this. I pick up the knife and make another line under the first one, this one even deeper. I start to feel light headed.

You know in books when they say your life flashes before your eyes right before you die? Well, apparently, it's true. My mind brings me back to one memory, a very short but precious one.

I walk into the classroom and see the room full of students.

"Ahh, you must be Nate Tucker," the teacher (I don't remember her name) says.

I shyly nod.

"Welcome to 6th grade! You will have a lot of fun in the middle school," she says, coming up to me. "You sit in the empty seat in the corner, it's in alphabetical order until I learn all of your names."

I nod again and sit next to a girl with long brown hair and brown eyes. She smiles at me and I smile back. She looked pretty cute.

"Hi, I'm Mitchie," she says, her voice sounding like the angels calling from heaven.

Then it all fades to black.


*Sigh* I cried a bit as I wrote this. My first time writing a suicide. While typing it, I thought of Black Keys by the Jonas Brothers, the part where he doesn't like the light is like how the girl doesn't like the sun. Please review, tell me what you thought.