She walks down the hallway. She hears the whispers. She keeps on walking. She arrives to the classroom, sits down and sighs. “Stupid nonsense, why do I come to this prison?” She mumbles. The memories flash through her head. Her eyes open wide pupils thin. She runs to the bathroom, goes in a stall and locks it. She rustles through her bag and gets out a piece of paper. She ever so elegantly writes down, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t I can’t.” She just kept writing I can’t. Those thoughts did not stop her. She slid off her hoodie and threw it on the ground. She buried her head in her lap, and started crying. She took the knife and it slid ever so smoothly through her skin. She started too smile, laughing even. She did it because of the jealousy. No one wanted to be her friend. They were all blind to her state. She needed a friend, they never would be her friend though. She had liked a boy. He never noticed her, but it all happened yesterday. He found a girlfriend. She had found out. She was angered. She took her axe and headed to the girls home. She opened the door, and let’s just say things did not end well for the girl. The boy was heartbroken. She didn’t know why she did it. She didn’t feel bad. Not one bit, she actually enjoyed it. Maybe she’s delusional but does that matter? If she had one friend, if she was noticed by that boy and, they so happened to become a couple, that girl would have survived. She slid the knife out, crying and laughing she passed out in the bathroom. No one wondered where she went, No one cared.