I look around at the bathroom. So white, so perfect. The only room in the house that shows no signs of a broken family. My bedroom is black, with my tools lined up and my steel-toed combat boots on the ground. The living room, with my mom passed out on the floor. The whole is place dusty and grimy. Except for the bathroom, I was nine when we redid it. It used to be blue. Mom told Dad she wanted white, you see. So pure, so clean, so innocent.

That was before they started drinking, before he was killed in the war. Before I started blaming myself. Before I was best friends with razors and broken glass from her vodka bottles.

Before, at school, Paige found out. Before Marco and Ashley both found their true loves, before I started failing.

Before Miss Suave told me I should tell my mom to sign me up for counseling with a professional, which she never did.

But that's OK. Oh yes, I will be OK. They'll miss me, but not as much as I missed them.

I turn to the bathtub and start the water. This will all be over soon. Maybe if I'm lucky this will hurt, and I'll scream. Maybe they'll all come running, and say, "Ellie, oh Ellie, how could you? We love you!" and hug me.

Or maybe she'll come in. Paige did say she'd be by some time this week, just to check on me. I already told her to tell Caitlin that I quit my job.

To my friend Ashley Kerwin, I leave my notebooks and journals.

To my friend Marco Del Rossi, I leave my posters and wall decorations.

To Paige Michelchuck, I grant a brief reading of my journals.

To my mother, Eleanor Elizabeth Nash the first, I leave my money.

For Ashley and Marco, I leave my CD's.

Please sell the rest of my things, and give the money to charity.

The bathtub is almost full. I stop the water, take off my sweater, and get in. I'm only wearing a black tank top and a plaid skirt and fishnet tights, exposing my cuts and scars from me and bruises from him, to the world. I wonder who will find me. Inhaling deeply, I grip my razor. I slide the blade along all of my old cuts, wincing slightly at the pain. It'll all be over soon. I lift my shirt, cutting open the skin along my waistline, and above. I losing control now, loving and wanting the blood. The water is turning red from the blood. The world is flipping over and around, like the colours in a fun house.

The world starts to spin. I cry out, for joy and love and my family. I smile for my future. I sob, because I am now leaving.

And I see the white, the purity, of my bathroom, as I sink into the water. For the last time.