A/N Thank you guys! I know I need to get more on top of this...I'm thinking three more chapters...Also, I'm posting the start of a Supernatural story, so if you're into the show...yeah

Reviews much appreciated but not entirely necessary...

Days had passed the same way, and the amount of scars on his wrist increased. He looked for his long sleeved shirts.

No luck.

Nobody's gonna see it anyway. Why does it matter anymore?

Drake threw on his Black Souls tee shirt and left for school. Each class had flown by, but only because Drake had his mind on other things. When lunch had come, things just got…difficult.

Mindy walked over to Drake, glancing at his wrist. She knew she shouldn't say anything about it…not yet, anyways. She sat next to him, confused by the no remarks made.

"I broke up with Josh."

"I'm sorry." Drake sounded sincere, but Mindy knew otherwise.

"Megan told me about what's been going on with you two. It's clearly badly affecting you. I tried talking to him, but he didn't listen, so…I broke up with him."

"Thanks but not needed. He wouldn't care no matter what."

"He cares. They care. They probably just have a lot going on."

"I guess."

The bell rang for next class. Drake had not eaten anything, and Mindy assumed why. She knew she'd have to get through to him.

T

Drake got back to the now empty house. Josh was at work, Megan out with her friends, and his mom and Walter at a weather convention. Drake had a good few hours to himself.

All he needed.

He cleaned up everything in the house, making it spotless. He even made Josh's bed, just to do something right for once. He had neatly written a note to each member of his family, placing them on their pillows. He knew they wouldn't miss him, and he knew they thought he was just there, wasting life away.

He called Mindy, the only one he could say cares. But she liked Josh; she only broke up with him because of him.

"Drake?"

"Hey, um I'm not going to be in school tomorrow."

"Why? You sick?"

Does mentally count? "Yeah. I'll talk to you later. Goodbye."

He hung up, placing the phone in his pocket. He headed to the bathroom, sliding into the empty tub. He slowly dug his blade across both of his wrists, ignoring the bitter taste of pain.

He slowly drifted into unconsciousness.

T

Drake had woken up. He was not sure of where he was. He felt a needle piercing his skin, and the coldness of metal bars against his arms. He was in a hospital.

His mother looked up with thankful eyes, silently crying.