When they ask if she's okay, it only makes it worse. She fumbles with her razor, hidden insid her purse. She forces a fake smile, saying her usual lie. "I'm fine," she says, while uttering a silent cry. They dismiss it with a nod, they don't know the truth. They think she's always smiling wide, but she's far from bulletproof. She's drowning in her river of tears, tumbling down her mountain of fears. Quieting her want, her urge to die. Hiding her tears, silencing her cry. Putting on her brave face when in front of others, when all she wants to do is curl up under the covers. With the razor in her hands, she makes one final cut. This one cuts much deeper, leaves an odd feeling in her gut. Her energy is fading away, she knows this is the end. Too bad her life could've been saved with the help of just one friend. She dropped her beloved razor, heaving one last sigh. Turning to the mirror, the girl watched herself die.
