I woke up and noticed that Frank wasn't next to me like he usually was. I checked the clock, and it was 4:30 A.M. No wonder why I was so cold. I rubbed my arms in an attempt to get rid of the goosebumps while I walked quietly down the hall. The apartment was silent and all I could hear was the wind blowing against the wood panels, causing the house to creak. I stepped slowly down the stairs, peeking around where the wall ended and finding Frank talking to someone at the door. The breeze caused me to shiver. It was mid-winter, and the dark blue sky was glowing off of the snow.

"I do love you, I just need to make her happy." A shirtless Frank whispered so quietly that I thought I might not have heard it.

"Well it's either her or me. You choose. I can't believe you lied and said that you were a virgin. That's so rude. You're just gonna end up breaking her heart even worse than if you would've stayed disappeared." I recognized Jamia's voice.

"But she needs me." He groaned.

"So do I. And what about the twins? You're just gonna let them grow up fatherless? I think not. You have responsibilities, Frank. Big ones. And you better live up to them." With that Jamia turned around and left, her boots crunching in the snow.

I quickly ran back up stairs on my toes, minimizing the noise as much as possible. I laid back in bed just in time for Frank to come back into the room. He wrapped his arms around my waist, kissing my cheek. Silent tears fell from my eyes, rolling down my face and onto my pillow. Once I was sure he was asleep, I got out of bed and walked into the bathroom. I applied make-up, as if I were getting ready for a normal day. I dressed in shorts, long socks, a long t-shirt, and a hoodie. I wanted to die decent looking.

I opened the medicine cabinet, removing the pain killers that I used to use for headaches. In the drawer under the microwave in my kitchen, I found a box-cutter. I ripped a sheet of paper out of a notebook, and scrawled quickly.

Once I returned to the bathroom with a glass of water, I swallowed as many pills as my throat would let me, followed by a drink, and repeated the process. I didn't want Frank to find me and take me to the hospital still alive, because then I could just become a vegetable. So I rolled my sleeves up, and cut. I opened old scars, fresh wounds covering my skin. I slashed and ripped my skin, the pain becoming worse than the dizziness I was feeling. I looked down at my arm, seeing the deep pools of red. I slid down the cabinets and onto the tile floor. I stared at the blood seeping from the cuts and onto the floor in a puddle of beautiful crimson. I thought about Frank. Even though he was the reason for this, I still spent my last few minutes of life thinking about how much I loved him.

I was ready to die. I always had been.

Frank woke up and sighed, realizing that he had to get out of bed already. He looked over, noticing Jackie's absence, and wondered subconsciously where she was. He stepped out of bed, pulling a shirt over his head and taking on a jacket, along with some jeans and socks. He walked downstairs, looking in the kitchen to see if she was eating breakfast. She wasn't there. He looked in the guest bedroom to see if she was in there. She wasn't. He knocked on the bathroom door.

"Jackie?" There was no answer. He knocked again. "Jackie?" Once again, there wasn't a sound to be heard. He turned the knob, finding out that it was unlocked. He slid open the door, and his heart immediately stopped at what he saw. She was there, a bottle of pills, a razor, and a pool of blood on the ground next to her. He fell down next to her, grabbing her bloody wrist and squeezing it in hopes to stop it from bleeding out. Her skin was pale white and cold. Her lips were tinged purple, and she was limp. It was different from the last time. This time; he knew she was gone. He knew that he wouldn't ever get her back. And he hated himself for it.

He picked up a piece of paper laying on the floor next to the blood.

"I'll always love you. I wish the best to you and Jamia."

So she knew. He turned it around.

"I'm the only friend who makes you cry."

He cried and cried, still clutching her body and holding her cold head against his neck while the irony of what she wrote hit him. He didn't understand how he was supposed to leave her. To get up, and to call an ambulance. He couldn't believe she was gone. While he was sleeping. He could have woken up earlier, he should've seen her. He could have said something to her that would've changed her mind.

After a couple hours of sobbing and holding her, he ran to the phone and dialed 911.

"911 What's your emergency?"

"My girlfriend- she's dead." H couldn't believe she was really dead. Saying the words just made it even more real.

"We'll send someone over right away."

The phone line went silent.

"Jackie, I'm so sorry. I love you. I can't believe myself. I don't know what I was thinking. This is all my fault." He said. "I wish I could have found you earlier. I wish I could have saved you. Why would you do this?"

He felt her hand grasp his one more time, and saw her lips part to mouth the words "I love you". He later swore he'd imagined it.