Prologue

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I fucked up. I really did. 

I lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling, the razor blade lying besides me. I've scribbled a note, which I've left a short distance away from where I'll be found. 

My wrist is in agony, a physical pain I've never felt this deep before, which I guess is a good thing. It means I've done it successfully 

The floor is cool, which feels like somewhat a relief. I've brought my CD player next to me, which I've put on the CD I cherish the most - "our mixtape". It was given to me many years ago, by someone special. Someone I really cared about, who's no longer here. She hasn't died (at least I don't think so) but she's faded out of my life, now nothing but a burning memory. 

Her name was Rosie. She loved music, especially the Dead Kennedys, and playing the bass. She dyed her hair pink and had multiple star tattoos, and piercings as well. She also loved horror films, the V for Vendetta comics, cigarettes (although that wasn't the best for her lungs), and graffitiing. She was never afraid to say what was on her mid and just be herself - she couldn't care less about what people thought of her. I was hers, and she was mine. But I lost her. I fucking lost her. 

I'm not killing myself just because of her though. Or am I? No, I'm not. 

It was not only her that had left - I had lost everybody and everything  that I'd ever cared about, all because of my stupidity. 

And it all happened like this...

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