Silence

Sitting alone, staring at the sharp blade. "No one will care, no one would mind, no one would have to know," That is what she thought, that is how it starts out. Starts with one cut, the feel of the warm, red blood falling down the body, like a rain drop, but it has more beauty to it, more warmth. It is the best feeling in the world for that moment. Starts with one, leads to another and another.
It seems to call for her, the blood to flow down her some more, it didn't matter where, so long as it was somewhere. It didn't matter how she did it or how bad it was, so long as she felt something.
She hasn't felt anything for a long time now, just nothing. When alone, she would cry, tears of nothingness, the saddest of them all. The feeling of so sad it became nothing.
To her this meant nothing to anyone. No one would talk to her when she needed someone to, no one seemed to be there either. As though she didn't exist or she had become invisible and everyone had forgotten about her.
"When will it stop?" She screamed to the voices, to the people in her head.
She could hardly tell from reality and what was in her head. She felt more like the stuff in her head was real rather than the reality that made her sick.
Lifting the blade, she cut, deep.
Blood came pouring out of the wound, the flow of blood seemed to be constant. But it wasn't enough.
Again, she cut. And again.
The floor around her was a giant puddle of blood. And it kept getting bigger and bigger.
Another cut and another.
On her arm, her leg, she just wanted more pain and more feeling.
The blood slowed. Tears fell from her face, falling into the puddle of blood. A puddle full of anger. Full of fear. And full of nothing.
The blade, she dug into her arm, pulling it out, in one quick move, in and out, into the thigh. And it was soon the end.
Blood kept coming, the floor became a sticky mess. A mixture of blood and tears, she lay in it, waiting for the darkness to consume her, never having to wake in this world of light again.
And the darkness, taking her, wanting to eat off of the life of what could have been, taking her to the other place. A place which no one knows until they die. It could be good. It could be bad. It could be nothing. But whatever it is, it cannot be as bad to her as the would us living people live in today.
The last drop of life drained from her body. All was silent, resting in hope of peace. Nothing here, in this world, could hurt her.