I want to feel the rush of death, the high of utter nothingness, the fragility of my own mortality. Let it slip through my fingers like sand and when it's gone for good, I'll be none the wiser.

No matter what, the day didn't feel like Christmas to her.She remembered years ago, when she had been just a little kid, and the word had been enough to make her happy. Nothing stirred in her now. Her childhood felt like it had been in another life. As she sat alone in her room with tears drying to her face, she resolved that no matter what the calendar said, it wasn't Christmas.If it was, she'd feel happy, not depressed.

On a whim, I told Mom once about seeing the world as a series of grays, and she told me I was depressed. This didn’t feel like that. This emptiness was different.

If everyone I love is dead, where can I go if I do happen to escape?Nowhere.And for some reason, nowhere is the only place I want to be.

You pushed me down to the depths of my sorrow until I thought I wouldn’t see the light of day again. You expected me to drown, didn’t you? To be left there for an eternity, waiting for your hand to pull me out? What you didn’t stop to realize is that I live in the shadows, thrive even. When I pull myself from the darkness, I’ll be stronger for it and you’ll regret leaving me for dead.

In her crazy, upside down world, she needed someone like that. A rock that would keep her going, an anchor to keep her from drifting away. Instead, she was alone

In her crazy, upside down world, she needed someone like that. A rock that would keep her going, an anchor to keep her from drifting away. Instead, she was alone.