Dear Diary,

Entry #3

11:13 p.m. 27/11/03

I slammed the phone down in fury. I could feel the tears streaming off my face, as if a hurricane passed over my face during a tropical storm. I felt the tears run down my forearm, and fall into a puddle on the hardwood floor. The rain outside smashed against my window with every raindrop, making me jump at the giant drops. I ran my shaking fingers through my tattered, fried hair. My phone was constantly going off with buzzes from him. If only I weren't home alone, watching the dogs, I would go and just end my pain. I let out a furious, ear piercing scream to release my anger. I fell to the floor, unable to comprehend anything happening around me at this point. That bastard cheated on me. He cheated on me with his ex, Tyler. I knew I shouldn't have trusted that bastard alone with him. One bottle of beer, my ass. He knows he can't hold his liquor. Just give me a bottle of Jack Daniels and some Jameson, and I'll go out and do the same. I kept hearing voices echo throughout my throbbing skull. "Sorry," "cheater," "why," and then, I heard the one. "Just give up." I slammed my hands multiple times into the ground until I felt my hands begin to bleed. I shot up from the floor and kicked the bathroom door in. I looked at myself in the mirror, rubbed my face, and lunched the mirror, dead where my face was. The mirror broke to pieces, and flying shards cut my already bloody hands a few times. I found the sharpest piece of glass I could find, and held it gently in my hand. I've had history with sharp objects. I pressed the glass into my arm, I could feel the skin rip already. I started the drag the glass across my skin, tearing open the very own fibers of my skin, inch by inch. I could see blood rush down my arm faster than a water faucet. I could feel the glass right next to my vein, so I stopped to think. While I was thinking, I heard the window in my room slam open, and shuffling. I backed away from the bathroom door, fearing what could be there. The bathroom door swung open and there stood Andy. He looked at my face, then looked at what I was doing. I turned away to try and run towards the other ride of the bathroom, but he grabbed me by my stomach and took my to the ground. "Get away from me!" I screamed, trying to wiggle away from him. "No! Stop moving, you're gonna kill yourself!" He screamed. I could feel the pain in his voice. He grasped the glass from my hand, and tossed it into the bathtub a few feet away from us. I could see a glimpse of his hand after he threw it; it was cut from the glass. "Why would you do that? You could have killed yourself!" He yelled at me. I could feel the tears welling up again. "You told me to! You told me to give up." I retorted. He looked shocked, and confused. "You were drunk, and you told me to kill myself, but I ignored it. And then I found out you fucking cheated on me!" I started to kick and scream. "Rose, I would never mean it if I ever told you to do that. I can't even believe I told you that. The cheating part was accidental, you have to forgive me." He explained. I continued to kick and scream. I just wanted to die. He grabbed my face and forced it to face his. He made me stare into his hypnotizing eyes. "Rose. You promised me you would never take another sharp object to your wrist. I promised you I would never leave you, and I'm keeping that promise. But, you have to keep yours. You're not leaving me either. You mean the world to me, and it breaks my heart that I'm the reasoning behind this fucking shit. It hurts, and I have mixed emotions, but I just want you to know that I love you." He explained. He wiped the tears that were on my face away, and kissed me. He pulled away after a minute. "I've seen you at your best and worst. We've both done shit things we could call each other out on, but it's the past, and I couldn't give less of a shit about it anymore. I love you, and only you, and I don't see why you don't understand that." He explained, tearing up. "I-I just-," he cut me off by kissing me again. This may be the worst timing ever to try and be romantic, but if it's working, then it's working. "We have got to get you to a hospital." He whispered, getting up. He picked me up, bridal style, and carried me to his car. "I'll just fix your window whenever you get better." That was the last thing I remember hearing that night.

Will I ever wake up?