The air she breathes in is like poison, the ground she walks on like quicksand and the hurt she feels when no one is looking is like unsharpened knives attempting to penetrate her heart. There is only so much more that she can take before it all just ends. She wishes that she would get in accidents, kidnappings or beatings just so that she can be able to feel anything but her broken heart. No one to depend on, nothing to wish for, no one to notice. Noticing that she is just a shell with nothing inside but pain and loneliness. The sun is bright as she steps to the edge of the sharp cliff. Her toes burn against the hot Earth as she looks down into the abyssmal darkness of the ocean. The wind whips her hair around her face. She has lived her whole endless teenage years for this one moment. Once she was dead, nothing would change. The sun would still set, her parents would still hate her, the blame for everything would still rest on her even after she was gone. The water two hundred feet below practically called out to her. What in the hell was she thinking. This wasn't her. She looked up and off into the distance of the glittering ocean. She wasn't a quitter. The pain she felt was so strong that she had been pushed to this, and now she couldn't even jump. Her toes itched to leap, her head said otherwise. She had a chance to turn around still and go back. But back to what? No matter what she did it never was good enough for those around her, but he said it would be okay. He told her a lot of things when he stood by her before turning on her. But he did tell her one thing that was true. He told her that it's not too late. She backed away from the ledge. It's never too late.