That one day, it all dragged her to where she was now. Alone, teased, hit and punched. Anorexic, a self-harmer, suicidal and mute. A 'freak'. Alone, lost in this cruel world, like everyone else trying to fit in.
She was as nice as everybody else, she knew that, but nobody wanted to see it. When she did, she was hurt, badly. So she gave up. She wore a mask, she put up a wall, distancing herself from everyone else. Society in particular.
She was on the edge. She looked down to the water. What would the bottom look like? Would it be endless? Would it be dark and angry, menacing, or would it be light, serene and calm? She knew she was on the edge, yet again, of her life. She chose to be, the words and abuse affected her mentality more than anybody would, or could, ever know. She knew she wouldn't be able to handle this life for much longer, in fact, she was surprised she lasted for as long as she has now.
Her mind whispered to her that she should do it. Even the wind wrapped their fingers around her relaxed body.
You should do it. Just do it before anyone comes and sees. You don't want to be saved again, do you? Nobody's here, nobody can see you jump off the edge. You have inside, so why not the outside, as well? Do it now!
Her mind agreed, but there was something wrong. She knew it. She looked behind her, and saw it.