Red

        "Ginger! Twit! She-devil!" I thought of all the words they called me. The words that brought me here. I was so tired of the words. Of all the bad treatment. And for what? My hair color?

        I stood up straight. I looked at what was before me. My family came to mind. 

        "They'll be fine." I assured myself. I took a step but quickly reversed. I didn't feel ready. 

        "Maybe this isn't meant to be." I thought.

        I closed my eyes and thought of my dreams. They seemed so close already. I could picture it. "Helena Farrell, professional cellist." The thought made me smile. And I remembered that I could sing. Oh how I could sing. I remembered the merit I achieved in my grade six singing exam. I slightly giggled.

        I remembered how my friends didn't know. How they weren't aware of the hurt I was going through. I was with them a few minutes ago and I acted as if nothing was wrong. "They probably wouldn't do anything anyways." I took a step forward but swiftly stepped back.

        I thought of school. I thought of when I took the pills. The nurse stopped me. She cared enough to halt the process, but not enough to help me. She probably felt the same as the bullies. That I was a meaningless redhead. This made me think of the other kids. The ones who called me those awful names. 

        Those kids never cared about me. They never put my feelings into what they said. Did they have cold hearts, or were they right?

        I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. "I'm really going to do it now." I repeated over and over in a whisper.I kept my eyes closed. My breathing got harder as I was getting ready to let this rope take my life. I took a step forward without taking a step back.