1 one.now

It came the day I lost her. I remember it vividly. It was the second worst day of my life.

I sat in the back row of my third-period History class, ignoring the stares and whispers directed at me.

"Is she still crying?" A voice carried from the desk in front of mine.

"Yeah," the voice sitting on their left responded.

"I feel like we should say something to her to make her feel better. " The girl on her right turned in the seat to glance at me, slowly, attempting at discretion. When she fully faced me, our eyes met for a split second and she gasped, swiftly turning away, her light brown hair floating slightly.

"Didn't you see what happened to Carlos Abbot? He tried to help her earlier, and Yara snapped and poured his coffee over his head!" She didn't bother to whisper, even though her voice was high with anxiety. She looked at me, and this time I pretended not to notice. "And what's crazy is that the teachers, they didn't say or do anything at all!"

Stupid white girls.

"She's going through something, and the teachers know and accept that. I hope she figures her life out, because it's starting to weird me out."

"It's not her fault she's hurting, Lilliana. It's just not our place to say anything to her yet."

Their words pierced me, but I drowned them out as I filled the small hearts I'd drawn on my left wrists with dark black ink. At that point, I barely registered the pain from my sharp pen. I only noticed the distraction, the distance it put between me, and the painful truth that had been tormenting me since early that morning.

She's gone.

Tears stung my eyes and dripped onto the open notebook on my desk, the pages filled with black hearts as small as my fingernail. I wiped away my tears swiftly, smudging the ink in my hand. Ink was probably smudged on my cheeks, but I wasn't worried about my appearance, not then.

Her golden smile, her curly black hair, the dimple in her left cheek, her bubbly laugh, they're all gone, she's gone, gone, gone —

I felt a sharp pain in my wrist, dragging me back into reality. The tip of the black G-2 pen pierced my skin, and a small bead of red pooled over my hearts. Barely registering this, I reached into my pencil pouch and unwrapped a bandage. I sighed as I adjusted the other two already attached to my skin.

All my fault, all my fault, all my fault, all my fault —

The bell rang and startled me from my thoughts. Everyone grabbed their books and listened to the teacher's final words, continuing on with their lives as they poured into the hallway. I wanted to leave but I couldn't, so I kept drawing on my wrist, doodling over my most recent bandage.

I stand at the edge of a high cliff, darkness outlining the fall. I'm almost there. Rocks tumble into the dark emptiness and I lean into the abyss and I'm so close. I slip over the edge, and the welcoming darkness engulfs me as I fall and fall and —

Something brushed my shoulder, and I looked up to see Ms. Brysin standing on my left, staring at the drawings on my wrist. I hide them under my desk.

She sighed. "Miss Theron, I recognize that your going through something tough, and I empathize with that. At the same time, though, you shouldn't be alone ..."

It was the same speech I'd been hearing throughout the day, and I was bored of it. I idly reached for my black pen and, with my left hand, started writing on my right wrist.

Destroying me slowly destroying me slowly destroying me slowly destroying me slowly destroying me slowly

"Miss Theron, are you all right?"

Tears were streaming down my face again. I didn't bother to wipe them away this time, didn't need to. Ms. Brysin took a white cloth from her pants pocket and wiped them away as they fell. I kept crying.

— Falling and falling and falling and falling into the welcoming darkness —

"I ... I need to go home," I whispered, my voice breaking from disuse. Ms. Brysin blinked.

"Alright, Miss McVey. Whatever is best. I'll be sure to call your brother."

She handed me the ink-stained cloth and walked toward the door and I realized I had to leave that room. Shaking slightly, I stood up from my desk and grabbed my pencil pouch, books, and a backpack. I took a deep breath before walking out the classroom into the crowded hallway.

Bright lights and laughter assaulted me. Students are teachers alike socialized, not eager but determined to get to their next destination. They didn't notice me. They never did. A group of four or five girls walked passed me, crowded around one who was telling a story. Two girls stood out from group, holding hands. Staring deeply into each other's eyes, they kissed.

I felt a sharp pain on my chest and I gasped loudly, dropping by books. People walking behind me groaned at my lack of movement but immediately understood when they realized who I was, recognized the still falling tears on my cheeks.

— falling and falling with no one to catch me, no one to care, no one to love, no one for me to love, no one, no one at all —

I was on the cold, tile floor, leaning against the even colder lockers, crying still. There hallways were empty now, but I barely noticed. I noticed the pain, the unwelcoming reality I had to face.

— falling into oblivion, falling into the welcoming unknown, falling falling falling in the never ending darkness —

I felt someone pick me up from the cold floor, and people were talking softly around me.

"Is she alright?" The voice belonging to the person holding me asked. My older brother, Noah.

The other voice sighed. "She's going through something tough right me now. I think she should stay home until it passes."

Not realizing I closed my eyes, I opened them slightly. Ms. Brysin was talking to Noah, trying her best not to look at me.

"Ok, I'm gonna take her home. Isis still doesn't know what happened, so I have to break the news to her..."

— If I keep falling, who will catch me, falling into the cold welcoming darkness....

I closed my eyes as Noah waved goodbye to Brysin and walked toward the exit, still carrying me. I hugged his chest.

"I'm so sorry, Yara." There was sadness in his voice, but mostly pity. Above everything else, I hated pity.

I didn't want to use my voice so I shook my head, my dark hair brushing against my shoulders. He understood, and, placing me gently onto the sidewalk, we walked in silence to his car.

After we pulled off, it was silent except for the music pouring from the radio. Where I was at the moment, there was nothing I hated and loved more than silence. Silence made me think. Silence made me face the harsh truth.

She left and it's my fault. All my fault, mine...

You were supposed to love me forever, Willow.