Hayden gave up shortly after we had done mid-term exams. I guess some might blame it on the stress of being in final year, but I wouldn't personally. Hayden just wasn't the same..it's like she was a completly different person which is scary now that I recall the times I had spent with her before and during all of this. I had known her since I was able to talk-- we were born eight days apart and were virtually inseperaable after that. Hayden mostly stuck to herself, alone and at home and would rarely if ever talk of anything but how beautiful and calming the colour of the sky was at dawn. How could I have caught on to what had been bothering her by just that? Or could I have? Did I pay close enough attention to the girl who was supposedly my "best friend"?

Finding somewhere to place the blame was and still is the hardest..so I just kind of gave up on the whole "blame" deal. It wasn't anybody's fault really, that Hayden had done what she had done. They weren't holding the gun, Hayden was. I don't blame her either, nor myself. I just dislike the fact that someone as amazingly talented, gentle, graceful, sweet and understanding could have been able to have done something like that.

I guess my whole purpose in writing this was to in a way maybe tell myself that it too wasn't my fault which I partially knew but still need convincing. I find that if I talk more of Hayden and what she had really done than making something up, excuse, fairy tales or just lies about how she died, insures me that what she had done was her own decision and that maybe she is "happier".

Although Hayden had always thought suicide was pointless, she thought it was her only choice. I wish I had been able to help, but I also hope it has brought her to her place among the glory, cause even though I can't tell her, she is my glory. Suicide is ugly and a misunderstood thing I guess, but like everything else its something you've got to get used to and deal with over time. You're not going to forget that person and what they had done, but you'll at least be able to make peace with yourself and the whole scary religious-based movie-depicted image of "Suicide".

Her Bittersweet Revenge

It's a cold monotonous day in January and she's crying again. Lately it seemed to be a daily ritual for her to come home and cloak herself in her veil of discontent and retreat to her room.

Her room was her sanctuary. The pungent smell of anger burned her throat so raw at times, she could scarcely grasp at enough air to continue breathing. Turning up her music loud enough to disguise the madness, she would then finally null all her senses and drift into a seemingly careless morgue of childhood dreams.

To her everything seemed as though it would never get any better, that they would only stay the same. She was destined to live in seclusion from the things she loved because those things that she loved so dearly frightend her immensely and knocked her down with a brute force.

Not too long ago, she had been happy, things were all playing in time like a well-written script. Then she "wore a stupid smile" and hit a brick wall of constant depression. Secluded in nowhere with only her thoughts, she took the crooked path with the protruding jagged rocks that tripped and skinned her hopes and dreams. The thorny thistles tore into her soul, leaving her bleeding with self hatred and envy of happiness.

Would things ever change for her? It wasn't fair that someone with so much love and compassion for everyone could feel the way she did. People kept pushing her around telling her that what she thought was wrong, that her dreams were jaded and would never amount to anything.

They pushed and shoved until finally the hatred she had tried so hard to escape, ate its way through her cloak and diseased her being. Now she had done the drastic, thinking she had nowhere to turn.

The cold steel grazed her temple shocking her. Her skin crawled with their germs of hate. She pulled her own trigger, she chased away her pain and ended it all in tragic irony. She knew hatred would never be her friend and that's why she had chosen this as her final end. She never left an explanation or said goodbye. To her this was her bittersweet revenge.