.o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o.

Crying. The pressure came back one night when I was alone again. I screamed. I ripped all the books in the house, toppled Pleakley's plants, and wrecked all Jumba's machines and experiments.

I hated it! Everything in my life was so messed up! I went into Nani's room, and began tearing her clothes up. I thrashed the scissors in and out of them, and soaking them with the tears of my furious rage. Then I screamed again, and threw the clothes aside. I spun around and came face to tear-stained face with a mirror. Something had helped me last time. What was it?

To my horror, I saw a trickle of blood running down the face in the mirror, and it quickly grew to a flood. I was dripping wet with red. I felt my face, and it was completly dry. I laughed. I remember! It was blood! Blood that helped me last time! I laughed again, then screamed and ran for the kitchen.

I knocked the knife block to the ground, and watched as they fell with a clatter to the floor. Laughing hysterically, I fell along with them. I rolled over the pile, feeling the cold steel on my back. picking one up, and sliced into my arm. A droplette ran down, and dropped to the ground. Not enough. I did it again. More. Again. More!!!

My arms and legs were a velvety wet red. I still needed more. This time I cut a deep, deep hole in the underside of my wrist.

It was enough. The pressure resided. I was at peace...so, so at peace. I yawned. I was very tired...much too tired to clean up after my rampage. Oh, well. I'll only get scolded and Nani will ground me. I yawned again. So very tired...and cold...shaky...I think I'll just fall asleep here on the kitchen floor for a little while...then I'll clean up...and go to my bed...bed.

That's when I closed my eyes and died.

.o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o..o0O0o.