Hola! Kait (rentislife0619) here--with another chapter! Hope you like it! Read and review, please!

CHAPTER SIX
(Title-Don't You Ever Leave Me)

Memories flooded my brain. Keep going, Mary. You can't stop now; you're in too deep.

I let another sigh escape me. "In the beginning I didn't think I would ever have the courage to go through with it, you know. It was just a thought that stayed with me the first few days after he died." I looked down. "But then it got worse." I took a pause. "Instead of living my life and paying attention to the real world, I would spend my time planning out ways I could kill myself. My mom told me that it'd be okay if I wanted to see a therapist since I was taking my father's death so badly, but I'd always tell her that I was fine and that it'd be a waste of time and money." I laughed—not a happy laugh, but a laugh of self-pity. "Now that I look back on it, I probably should have taken her up on that offer. Maybe it would have erased all the negative thoughts from my mind." I continued to look down, refusing to look into those intense blue eyes of his. If I looked up, I'd be looking at the one person that I wish didn't know about my past. I know, deep down in my heart, that what I'm telling him won't change anything between us-he loves me and he deserves to know-but I can't help but be scared of what he'll think of me when it's over.

Silent tears were streaming down my face. I was oblivious to their arrival; I was in my own little world, a world full of denial, self-hate, and blood—lots of blood. Mark's gentle hands wiped away my tears. "You're doing great, Mary. Keep going." He rubbed my back. "I'm so glad that you're comfortable telling me this."

It's almost over, I thought to myself. I can do this. The worst part's coming up, but it'll only get better.

I grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and wiped away the mascara that was traveling down my face through my tears. I'd neglected to take it off the night before. I folded the tissue four times in an attempt to waste time; it wasn't working.

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Here goes nothing. "Fast-forward to March 28th. I was a wreck. I'd been kicked off of all my school sports teams—track, horseback riding, tennis, swimming and gymnastics—all in the same day. All of the coaches brought me into a small conference room and said that I needed some time to piece my life together. Apparently I needed to re-prioritize my life. They said after losing my father, sports shouldn't be on the top of my list—my wellbeing should be paramount. It was a bunch of bullshit, if you ask me. I mean, that's what I thought at the time. As hard as it is to realize, now that I look back on the situation, I think they were right. But of course, being fourteen and in my first year of high school, I didn't give a shit what my coaches thought. I guess I was convinced the world was out to get me. Those sports were the only things that were helping me get my mind off of my father—I'd go home and be reminded of him, I'd look at my mother's face and see how she longed for him to be there with her, I'd look at my brother, Erick, and be see my father's face in his. But most importantly, I'd look in the mirror and see his eyes and his smile. I couldn't escape him, Mark, I just couldn't. He was everywhere."

I motioned for another tissue and Mark placed one in my hand. I dabbed my eyes and wiped my nose. I was a wreck and I wasn't even finished with my story. He took me into his arms and I cried on his shoulder. His soft hands made concentric circles on my back. His touch was soothing and it calmed me down. Just by the way he held me I could tell how deeply he cared for me. He motivated me to continue with my story.

We broke apart and I started to talk again. "After that meeting I decided to go home—to an empty house. I figured if now wasn't the best time to kill myself, when was? Like I said, 'The world was out to get me,' and I needed a way to escape. His death traumatized me and the only way to escape the trauma was to kill myself, too." I paused to let a small sob escape. "So, I locked the doors and went into the bathroom, stopping in the kitchen beforehand to get a small knife. I drew myself a bath—I figured I should be relaxed before I actually went through with it. I took my clothes off and put one foot into the bathtub. I realized that I should leave a note behind, but I didn't have any paper. So I took a red lipstick out of the make-up drawer and shakily wrote a short note in the mirror. I told Erick and Mom that I loved them but this was the only way to escape the pain and emptiness I felt. I was scared, Mark, I'm not going to lie about that." I put my head in my hands. Here goes nothin'.

"I got into the tub—the water was filled with lavender scented bubble bath—and slit my wrists. Let me tell you, the first few cuts hurt like a mother, but after that my arms went numb from the loss of blood. And that's all that I remember." I took a long pause, allowing Mark to digest what he was hearing. "The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital bed with Erick and Mom sitting beside me with tears in their eyes. My arms were bandaged up and I was hooked up to all sorts of beeping and buzzing monitors." Sobs were quickly escaping from deep inside my throat. Mark, who was as white as a ghost and had tears falling freely from his eyes, lifted my chin so I'd look straight at him.

"I love you, Mary, and I'm so proud of you for telling me all of this. Promise me you'll never leave me. Promise me you'll never leave me like April left us." His last sentence was said with disgust. April? Who was April?

A/N- So, her story's out! But what happens next? Read and review and it'll make me post quicker!