•THIRTY THREE•
Her friends kept trying to contact her.
She couldn't speak.
It felt like typing out lies was something she had gotten use to the past 2 weeks.
She didn't know what was happening.
She didn't know why.
Why she kept fucking things up or why she kept putting herself down.
But she cried, and she never cries.
She blasted her favourite music in her ears, hoping this could all be a dream.
No, that this nightmare could pass by quickly.
Just like she had hoped her death to be.
