She was only 14.

"She was only 14."
I'm Rachel. My best-friend Lucy killed herself last week. I'm NOT happy. It's kind of OK though; she's with me now.

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6. R.I.P babygirl

She died that night. 

Her hair, blonde, up in a messy bun usually, although this time, down, curly. It didn't shine like it normally did. It lost its sparkle when she lost hers. Her curling tongs were out. Red hot. She also had sores and blisters on her arms. She must have purposely burnt herself.

Eyes. Red. Bloodshot from her endless crying. Black circles hovered under her eyelids due to her ran mascara. She also had black on her hands and arms where she had been wiping her eyes. Wiping the tears away. Trying to anyway. The blue circles locked into her head had stopped dazzling. Still. No emotion. No life. Just... Just there. Like a car in non-moving traffic. The eyes that would never see again.They would never sparkle again. They would never show any sort of happiness. Just sorrow. Pain and sorrow. The only thing her eyes showed in the last few months of her life.

The rest of her face, her mouth. It was in a kind of twisted smile as if to say I'm glad I'm gone. 

The blood. Still fresh. Still dripping onto the bed cover that lay beneath her mangled body. Drip... Drop... Drip... Drop...

Damion. Every single night you see a tear role down his cheek, and he'll whisper, "Goodnight beautiful, I wish you were here right now, I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry for what I did. I'm sorry I made you take your own life by hurting you like that. I'll never forget you. I'll always love you. Thank you for everything. Absolutely everything. For helping me gain my confidence. For being there for me when no-one else was. For being the only one who ever cared. I hope you're happy where you are now. I hope, I just hope, that one day when I come and join you, that you'll still feel the same; I'm pretty sure I will. R.I.P babygirl." When he did this, at one point she sat at the end of his bed, watching him. When she knew he was asleep, she went over to him, kissed him on the forehead, said, "I love you too baby," and sat on his bed all night. She did it every night for one week. Now she does it every so often. Two or three times a week maybe. Her dying was the one thing that made him realize how much she meant to him. Her dying was the one thing that made him realize how not to treat a girl. Whats done is done. No going back now. I know Lucy will always protect him whatever happens, she's deep down and caring like that. She'll be by his side no matter what. He may not think it or notice it, but she'll be there. Waiting. Just waiting. Hoping. Just hoping. That when his time comes, he'll still feel the same. 

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