The person that sits in the middle of the classroom; taking notes like the rest of you. Who decided that in order to distract themselves from the pain deep down inside, their wrist had to endure a pain of their own.

The first time they rolled up their sleves; the first time being called the "suicidal, depressed freak". All the whispers that surrounded them, acting like heavy black boots constantly following them throughout the halls.

The one person to say "I know your not ok". Who risked everything in order to prove that the addiction to drugs, razors, and alchohol--the addiction of dying was no longer an answer. THe one to say "dying will not prevent things from getting worse, it will only prevent them from getting better".

Hating the people who started the addiction. Causing more and more pain to build up, becoming impossible to cease. Causing those whispers to become shouts that they chanted over and over. Those black boots now stomping as they started an incredible chase.

Being unconditionaly in love with the person that helped them to decide that dying was the easy way out; that fighting for your right to happiness, will always be worth it. The one to never give up hope. The one who said "happiness can be found in the darkest of times, as long as one remembers to turn on the light."