Everyday is like a war within myself, but it's time where I put this all to an end.

I hear the screams, I feel the hate, I see the anonymous messages encouraging my death.

There's no up, people lie.

All that is left of me is to die.

Turn up the sad songs and grab the blade, cut so deep but nothings working.

Screaming to myself asking why it has to be me.

Begging for someone to take my life.

Give it to those who have a chance at happiness, the ones who have cancer, with a family right beside them.

I abandon the blade, and pick up the pills.

Putting 64 Tylenol's in the hand, knowing that one by one it'll take away the pain.

I swallow all as if I was brave.

My organs are shutting down, but it's never enough.

Sprinting downstairs to grab the gun.

My parents ask if I'm okay.

But don't they see?

I'll never be okay.

So I lie to their face, telling them I'm just meditating.

Back in my room hoping they'll forgive someday.

Pulling out the gun, I place it in my mouth.

Starting to debate whether I should do this or not.

Realizing, it's for the best.

No one cares about me, I'm just the slut.

I'll make everyones life better, I'm just a waste of space.

I'm the girl who will never have a chance at life.

I mean look at me, I'm hideous.

If it wasn't for my existence, I would be well.

No rape, no beatings, no being sexually assaulted and harassed, no being taken advantage of, no more scars on my body, and no feelings.

If it wasn't for my existence, others would be happy as well.

I start to see someone in front of me.

Who is this person?

Why are they talking to me?

They say that I'm wrong.

How can I be wrong?

I'm doing people a favor, even when I die.

No paying for a funeral, no one would come anyways.

I save my parents money.

Realizing this “person” is a guardian angel, as he says.

He's here to help me rethink about my decision I'm about to make.

But why would anyone waste their time helping me though?

He says I should open my eyes, look at the life around me.

I see no life around me, all I see is hatred and sadness.

He informs me that if I die I would give up on those who call me their hero, and I'm going to let them feel how I feel or even worse.

I shout that no one looks up to me, if they did it would be a joke.

He reminds me that once I'm dead; someone will find me, and I will scar them deeply.

I don't want anyone to feel the way I do.

No one deserves pain besides me.

The very last thing he says is for me to really pay attention, because when I'm gone; I would be too late to understand that people do care for me, look up to me, and everyone would be upset with my death and attend my funeral.

I wouldn't be able to have the chance to forgive the ones at fault.

Suddenly, I wake up with blood and vomit all over me.

My parents are taking me to the E.R.

Sitting at the side of my bed, they're crying and blaming themselves.

My stomach will need to be pumped.

I drink charcoal so my liver and kidney won't die.

While staying in the ICU for a week or so, my future comes into an action plan.

I'll helping others realize they aren't alone and I understand their pain.

I want to change the suicide rates.

Although; I'm not going to want or hope.

I WILL change the suicide rates, I'm determined.

No one will be left behind without knowing there is always someone out there.

I'll be their guardian angel.