“I’m tired. I can’t keep fighting. I’ve already lost and there’s nothing left fighting for. No one heard my cries for help. I’m inaudible.”

I stared at the words until my vision blurred and the letters jumbled together. Finally, my eyes found their way upwards and took in what was happening around me. They were taking her away. I clutched her note in my hand so tightly that my knuckles turned white. I quickly looked down and nearly passed out. On the floor was a rope. Her rope. The one she used to kill herself.

I was the one that found her that day. It was a rainy day and I ran home as fast as I could. She said she felt sick that morning and decided to stay home. I had to get back quickly to take care of her. As soon as I stepped inside, I felt that something was wrong. I timidly called out but received no reply. Panicking, I dropped everything and ran upstairs certain that something terrible had happened. I was right. Only then, I thought we had been robbed and she had gotten hurt. If only it had been that trivial.

I called out her name and ran into every room looking for her. She was no where to be seen. I went back to her room, looking for any sign that she had gone out. That’s when I saw it. A little cream colored envelope sitting neatly on her pillow. I slowly walked over and picked it up. Trying not to wrinkle the paper, I opened the envelope and read the letter. I read the note over and over again, not comprehending what it meant. That’s when I realized. Her closet was ajar. She never left anything open, not even a crack. Whether it was a drawer, a closet, or even a pencil case. Something was very wrong. I slowly crept towards the closet, afraid to make a sound. Left, right, left, right. My legs felt like lead. I didn’t want to open the closet, but my body was moving on its own. It slowly, carefully carried me to the closet. I watched my hand reach out and open the door. I screamed.

I found her. Why did I have to find her? My legs couldn’t hold my weight and I collapsed. Unable to take my eyes off of her, I kept on screaming. I couldn’t stop. The rope was around her neck, suspending her about a foot off the ground. She looked terrifying. Her arms dangled uselessly at her sides and her eyes were bulging out, looking straight at me. That’s not even the worst part. The most horrifying part was her mouth. The corner of her mouth was pointed upwards and her lips were slightly apart. She was smiling.

Someone bumped into me and startled me out of my memories. I looked at where our parents stood weeping over her. Someone had closed her eyes. Besides her ashen skin and the dark bruises around her neck, she could have been sleeping. Unfortunately, she wasn’t. She was dead. I forced myself to turn away and gazed out the window instead. It was still raining. Who did this? Whom can I blame? I closed my eyes and wept. I wept for her, for me, and for anyone that had to go through as much pain as I did. I glanced back at her still body and wailed. I cried. I screamed. I hollered. But no matter how much noise I made, no one looked up for even a second. They couldn’t hear my cries of pain, and they never would. I’m just like her. Inaudible.