[[ Pasta'd from DA. I'm still swamped with work, so my commissions are still on the backburner. I refuse to do my commissions at school because I know damn well my work when I can actually focus is better. |D;; ]]

[[ Fun Fact: I'm not religious at all, so don't harp me, bro. ]]

This was intended to be an emotional piece but as I continued it I felt more and more futile in the effort.

A girl at my school killed herself overnight; the school was silent today. I didn't know her, but some people at my lunch table did, so we chatted about her death calmly and took comfort in just... knowing we were alive. From what I'd heard, she was bright and nice. But bullies got to her, I'm assuming, and after so many years of abuse she finally fell apart.

So the futility in this is me questioning if I even have a right to feel the way I do. I'm not her family, I'm not her friend; I was just another girl who could have known her and been one of the two and didn't know enough to try.

Suicide hits me hard. I have two attempts under my belt and, while I'm over it now, I can't help but wonder about the thoughts that kept me from that final moment.

Why didn't she have the same thoughts I did.

Why didn't she think of everyone who would cry for her, of the impression she'd leave, of how futile dying before your time is... I just... I feel something for her, but I can't tell if it's anger at the selfishness of taking your own life or regret for never having known her well enough to prevent the former.

I guess now I'll never know.

I guess I'm terrified of who may be next.

Rest in peace.