No one is home.
I trace my hands down the walls as I make my decent to the bathroom.
I undress and draw a bath.

I am not sad. I am not happy.
My only emotion is desire.
As the water fills, so does my desire to leave this place.
My desire to escape the trap called life.

I pull a thin, brand new razor from the hidden compartment in my sink.
This razor is the link to my happiness.

It makes me feel alive to have this piece of metal trace slits into my skin.
It makes me feel like more than just an object.
More than just an unfit piece of a puzzle.
I feel alive.

There’s nothing better than feeling alive.
Most people do not understand what it’s like to watch yourself die.
When you’re depressed, you become a ghost of your once happy self.
You witness yourself get weaker and weaker every day.
Imagine watching yourself wither away.

I stand in front of the mirror;
Nude and hideous.
I disgust myself.
I grab the fat on my stomach and smoosh it all together with my hands.
When did I let myself become a size 6?
I miss being a size 2.
I miss being a size 0 even more.
Every time my stomach growls, I know I’m getting thinner.

The bath begins to overflow.
I quickly turn of the warm running water.
I slip my right leg into the tub
then my left.

I close my eyes and imagine I am walking off a cliff.
I grab my razor and grip it in my hand,
slicing my palm open.
I am still walking off the cliff.
Looking down I see people cheering.
The only familiar faces are mother and father.
You can do it! They chant. Just jump!
I have to now. They’re watching.
I have to impress them.
I jump.

I take the razor,
and in one sharp swipe down my wrist;
I am at the bottom of the cliff;
still alive, but barely breathing.
Every sad memory slips my mind.
Every bad thought is nonexistent.
I will never have to fake a smile again.
Everything horrible is fading.
All that’s left is beauty.
I am free.