A Dead Girls Diary

Right now, i'm sitting in my room with my puke green prom dress on, runny makeup, freshly (and horribly) cut hair finally using the notebook my therapist gave me.
Im considering two ways I can end this story, two alternate endings.
The pills that have somehow found their way in my hand or the half opened window leading out to the world.
I guess, for right now I don't have to choose.
I have the entire rest of the story to do just that.
So I won't.
My name is Maevel Griffin (Mave), i'm 16 and my life is absolutely fucked because in my defense,
it is fairly easy to ruin your own life.