My uncle died when I was 8. He committed suicide. I had no friends. My family was having problems with money. I saw it fit to rid them of the burden of having a daughter. I hated the color red and seeing my own blood so I used to burn myself with ropes not cut. Everyone hated me. I was to depressed. I went mute for six months. Took too many pills once. Strangled myself with a belt too. No one even cared. No one even noticed I was nothing. Then I met him. He pretended to care. He pretended to notice. He pretended for love. He pretended and then it all went away. I wished someone would kill me. I didn’t have the strength to take my own life. I would now if it ever came to it. You wonder if people would care. You wonder if people will notice. Of course they will. When these thoughts run through your head, start simple. Start with your name, birthdate, friends, family, teachers, anyone who you’ve ever met that you remember, then start with what’s making you sad. Do it over and over and eventually the thoughts will go away. Someone always cares more than you think they would. You’re someone’s world. You’re someone’s reason to be.