On one dark and silent night a girl sat alone and cried. She was crying because her father had beaten her once again, like he did every night, and she thought that this time he had broken a couple of her ribs. He was also calling her names and telling her that she was worthless and would never amount to anything. The reason he was acting this way was because he was drunk, like always. She quit crying and stood up ignoring the pain that was coursing through her, of what she thought was a few broken ribs, and started walking towards her dressier. As she got closer and closer only one thought was going through her mind, "I'm tired of having to deal with him so I'm going to end this all right now," was what she was thinking. When she made it to her dressier she opened the top right drawer and pulled out a blade, and she was looking at it in a sadistic way. She then pocketed the blade and walked over to her desk, pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil, and then took the blade from her pocket and slit her wrists. She sat there and watched as the thick red substance ran down to her fingertips and onto the floor which was stained with blood. After watching the blood flow for a couple of minutes she picked up the pencil and started writing one last letter to the ones she loved to explain why she was doing this. The letter went like this:

Dear Everyone,

I'm sorry for doing this, and I know it is selfish, but I can't take it anymore. I can't take him beating me and calling me names. I have been cutting my self for about three months now and I finally decided I would just take my own life. I'm sorry for making you cry and I know where I'm going. I'm so sorry to everyone, except for you father. I loath you so much, your the reason that made me start, and worst of all you never remember what you do the next morning. You. are. a. self. conceited. bastard. who. thinks. he's. better. than. everyone. else, but get this through you thick head YOUR NOT! Your always talking down on people making them fell like shit. Before I die though I want to tell you one last thing, I DISOWN YOU. There's one positive thing to me committing suicide and that is I will never have to see you face again. Your the one who screw up my life and pushed me over the edge. So thanks for everything DAD. As for everyone else I care about I'm SO SORRY if I cause you pain or if I cause you to morn. So I leave...

The letter ended there because someone busted through her door and looked at her as if she was insane. He looked from the blood on the floor to her and realized what she had done. He then ran over to her and looked at the piece of paper in front of her, but he found it hard to read because blood was smeared all over it. He grabbed her by the wrists and just stared at it, and then he yelled, "what do you think your doing." He got no response, not even a glare, so he grabbed her by the waist and carried her out of the house and into his green Jeep Wrangler, she didn't struggle to get away though. There were now headed somewhere and the girl had a pretty good idea to where they were headed. The ride to where ever was a silent one, she was right, about five minutes later they were at the hospital getting her wrists stitched up so that she wouldn't die. After her wrists were taken care of she just sat in a chair with not emotion showing on her face. Finally, she spoke, but it wasn't her usual laid back tone, it was more of a cold emotionless tone. "Why did you save me Alex" she asked the boy who had brought her to the hospital. "Because I couldn't let you kill your self" he responded. She started bawling her hand into a fist and then started yelling, "Why couldn't you just mind your own business and let me die, I was more than ready to except it so why?" "Because I care about you that's why," he said, "do you really think by killing yourself he will change. He wouldn't care if you died, and you know that." She just stood up and started walking towards Alex.. You knew what he said was true, and that your father wouldn't care if you died, but you really didn't care. All he would do is go out to a bar, get drunk, bring home another slut, and then throw her out the next morning. Alex just stood there watching as the girl walked closer towards him. "Alex do you really think I don't know he doesn't care about me, hate to tell you but I already knew that," she said calmly and stopped in front of him. "Then why did you slit your wrists Kat," he asked? "Because I'm tired of my life, I'm tired of living, can't you understand that," she replied almost in a whisper. "Yes, I can, don't you remember I tried the same stunt about three months ago when Dane died," he said. "He was your best friend wasn't he," Alex nodded, "then it was him who was suffering, not you!" "Yeah, but" he was interrupted by Kat punching the wall next to her so hard it sounded like a few of her figures had broken from the impact of her fist with the wall. "Shut up Alex, you don't know what it's like to truly suffer, you don't know what it like so just shut up," she said sounding as if she was about to cry, "you just did it because you were mourning Danes death, nothing more." "What about you, your were just trying to escape your father, how could you be so selfish," he yelled at her. "Your right I am selfish, and I don't care, but you can't do or say anything to stop me from killing my self," Kat said kind of demonically. "Your right, I can't, only you can keep yourself from committing suicide. So why don't you chose weather you want to live or not right now," Alex said handing his pocket knife to Kat.