«Where are you now? Are you lost? Will I find you again?»

The girl had no idea what it was that attracted her to this song so much; if it was because they portrayed exactly her feelings, because they let out in sang words what she was too afraid to say out loud, or if it was because she always felt as if someone was reaching out to her, calling out to her and searching for her lost soul.

She always ended up in tears whenever this song came on, but she couldn't help but listen to it over and over again, letting her sadness and depression get the best of her, her tears fall through her face aimlessly and her chest hurt from the sobs she had to contain, in order to not wake anyone else in the house.

Using her hand to cover her mouth, to shut out the horrible sounds she wanted to let out - the angry growls, the pained sobs and strangled screams -, she looks at the picture her sister had managed to get of their long lost mother, unable to stop herself from missing her, from feeling lost, hurt, without her.

She has absolutely no idea if this is acceptable; being seventeen years old, having lost her mother five years before, but still miss her more than ever. She has no idea if this is normal, if this is how it was supposed to be, but she doesn't even begin to try and figure it out. She's too lost, buried way too deep underground, to even begin of think of something else that isn't this pain, this soul-wrecking pain that has stripped her from all happiness, from the girl she used to be.

She gulps soundlessly, trying to drown her tears before they are too many, her vision becomes too blurry, and she's uncapable of writing; she can't, though, because her heart is beating hard, pounding in a way that it becomes painful. She doesn't care for that, though, and just closes her eyes, taking deep breaths as her lips tremble, and more tears fall from her eyes.

The song's still playing on the background, as her fingers press the keys on her laptop, her mouth shut so she won't make any sound.

«I miss you» she types, sniffing softly. «I miss you, your hugs, your voice, your smile, your face. I miss who I was, back then; the happy girl who had nothing to break her down, the good, honest girl that didn't have to lie on a daily basis» she continues, taking a second to look away, before looking back at her screen. «Why did you have to go? You had so much left to live, so many things to teach me, so many words to sing to me» she writes, and, by this point, she can't breathe or see properly; her eyes are covered in tears, her throat and lungs constricted with the sobs she can't let out; her jaw's trembling as she attempts to stop herself from moaning her pain out. «I should've gone instead of you, you know? I wouldn't make such a difference in someone's life, if I had been the one to die, and not you. I was twelve, who could I have possibly have affected in the way that you did?»

It had always been set up in her mind that she deserved to die, not her mother; she wouldn't be so missed, she didn't have no one to take care of, she was just a little burden.

«You would've gotten over my death easily; you had my siblings to keep you sane and alive... Me, on the other hand... I have no one. No one can compare to you, and it hurts, because you could've gotten on with your life, and I can't. It's not fair. It's not fair that you got your eternal rest, while I'm here, restless, hurt, scarred forever.» She kept writing, moving her hands from the keyboard every once in a while to clean her tears, press on her stinging eyes to make the pain go away. «I know it's not your fault... You didn't chooose this. But I just wished it had been different.»

These are her final words for the night; she can't cope with this anymore. She feels the itch in her left wrist, the voice in her head telling her to just get it over with. She sees no reason not to, it would help her the most, but she knows she can't disappoint her friends, her siblings, everyone who believed her, just like that.

She grimaces as she takes a deep breath, hating everyone; hadn't it been for them, for their trust in her, she would be in a better place, right now. It would be so much better, she was so much better off dead, than having to deal with this constant stone in her chest, that pressed on her heart until it bled.

«Will you wait? Will you wait? Will I see you again?»