text: Trigger Warning: self harm, and suicide. There she lies. In a bathtub, with red water. An empty bottle of pills, and a red, blood stained blade falling out of her hands, onto the bathroom floor. It was over, Her body had reached the limit. Her emotional, state had reached the limit. This is how it ended. In a few hours, her mother would come home from her late shift at work, and wonder why her own child didnt come to greet her at the front door like she usually did. The house was silent. When her mother got home, she waited for Leslie to walk out with a faint smile, and welcome her home. Leslie always made her mother a warm cup of Chai tea. But the counter, was the same as how she left it. Dirty dishes everywhere, and no warm cup of tea with a spoon and honey by its side, waiting. She wondered if Leslie was just tired. Leslies mother called for her, however she did not answer, or come walking out. Leslies mother was getting worried, but still tried to look on the positive side. She turned on the burner of the stove and placed the tea pot on the warm, friendly flame. She got a coffee cup from the cabinet, and a tea bag from the jar on the counter. She grabbed a spoon from the lower cabinet, and the jar of smooth honey. She walked into the dark hallway, only lit up from the soft purple lights from Leslies room, under the crack of her door. Leslies mother knocked on the door and called out, “Leslie? Honey are you in there? Can I come in?” No reply. She slowly turned the nob on the door. When she walked in, and didnt see Leslie. Her worry grew. She checked under the blankets, under her bed, and around the rest of the room. Nothing. Nobody. Did she sneak out? No. Leslie would never do that. Leslie was a good kid, she never did anything bad in school, and tried her best. Her worry grew. This was not like Leslie. Wait! You didnt check the bathroom. She thought, turning to the door. She quickly walked over to the bathroom, calling out Leslies name. Her mind started racing, with different things that could have happened. Was she sick? Was she having a rough time? Or maybe- Leslies mother pushed the bad thought out of her head. She knocked. ”Leslie are you in there?“ No reply. “Leslie please answer me. It’s your mom. Leslie? Leslie!” She opened the door, with worry in her eyes. She let out a cry. There she lay, how her mother found her. Leslie Myers, dead in the bathtub.. full of blood stained water, cuts and scars up and down her body. She looked around, terrified. Then she saw it-- A note. She snatched the note from Leslies cold, stiff hand. She opened it with tears rolling down her face. Just as she thought. The note she never wanted to get from Leslie. “Dear Mom, Im sorry I ended it this way. I never wanted you to go through pain like this, but I couldn’t take it anymore. This isn’t your fault. I dont want to blame anyone for this. This was my choice. I dont want you to be Sade, I want you to be glad for the time I stayed. I hope to see you one day in heaven mom. <3. -Your daughter, Leslie Myers.” The crying stopped. She wasnt going to cry over this. Leslie wouldn’t want her to cry. She wouldn’t want her mother to be sad. Not every story ends with something happy. When did this all start? Why did this all start. Who brought this upon her? There never will be a true answer. She had done this every night. She would cry, and cry every night.. along with running a blade across her arms and legs until they were numb. She needed desperately to talk to someone. Someone who she could trust. Someone who wouldnt walk out on her life. Someone who cared. She had nobody. Her trust issues had pushed everyone away. Her arms weren’t always like this though, before boys called her names like “fatty”, and “sick girl”. She was quiet, before this. With only one good friend. Her name was Kylie. Kylie Smith. Kylie and Leslie. Best friends until the 7th grade. That was until Kylie turned into a total bitch. Yes, its true that 7th grade turns a lot of girls into sneaky little bitches. But not all. Leslie kept to herself, she ate lunch in the library or bathroom, she read at recess, and she never spoke in class. Kylie knew everything about Leslie, she knew about her father abusing her and then hanging himself when she was only in the 4th grade. Kylie told her “new friends” everything. That’s when it started, the bullying began. They harassed her every. Single. Day. They would call her names from across the hall, and hit her. They would taunt her as if they were using a air blade and cutting there arms. She tried so hard to ignore these girls, but she just couldn’t take it anymore. She had “accomplished” so much during the 7th grade. She lost her best, and only friend. She ate in the bathroom to avoid the bullying, and she Started to think that she wasn’t worth it. She was ”to fat”. She wasnt “pretty enough”. The list went on, on. In the begging of 7th grade, she thought this was going to be the year, the year she gets more friends, the year she has her glow up. She didnt want to wait though. Sometimes Leslie would go for days without eating, to make herself skinnier. She tried makeup so many times, it just wasnt right looking. Soon enough she was so skinny you could see her ribs. Her arms were so thing, she could wrap her hand around them. Easily. She was weak. In gym she fell, and she could barely walk up stairs without running out of breath. Her teachers didnt notice. She wore baggy clothes. Her mother worker so much, to support her and Leslie that she was always gone until late at night. Leslie was starved of help. She needed to talk to someone. All she needed was a hug, and a simple “It’s going to be ok Leslie..”. That never happened. The people who could help her were to late. They waited to long to help her. They lost their only chanced to keep her on this earth. Her calls for help were never answered.