I see her in the mirror. when im staring out a window into darkness.

In the surface of a lake.

She is my reflection.

Her name is destiny, and she holds my fate in her hands. 

A knife, long and powerful, she thinks it can end her struggles,

Yet she is hesitant to put it to use. 

She peers out at me, a question held in her gaze. 

She runs her fingers along her throat and wrists, feeling the slow pulse beneath her skin.

She closes her eyes sensing the black behind her eyelids. Is that what death feels like?

She opens her eyes. Light floods into her retna, she blinks, she can see clearly again.

She glances down at the blade in her hand, but she does not see a blade, She sees a choice.

She drops the knife. 

She chooses life.

She hopes she will not regret this decision, but she knows she can always reconsider.

Had she killed herself that would not be an option.

She smashes the mirror.

She snaps the blade.

She feels her heart beat in her chest.

The same one she almost ripped open.

She chooses life.

She chooses life.

She chooses life.

She does not regret it.

She walks out of her bedroom.

She leaves the darkness.

She is greeted by her friends and family..

People who never stopped loving her, people who care about her, and are always there to greet her with open arms. They hug her.

They dry her tears.

They tell her they love her.

She had a choice.

She chose life.

She did not regret it.