Suicidal Christmas

She awaits atop of the stairs
In her quiet, creaky room
For someone to show their face -
To take her out of her misery.

She has been alone on Christmas
In her quiet, creaky room
For the past six years of her life.
She waits and waits, but no one comes

She stares out of her window
Watching the snow fall silently
Coating the black night
With a soft, white blanket

The wind, ever-so-softly
Keeps her company in her quiet, creaky room
Where she wonders what she lives for
And why she should stay.

When she comes with nothing,
She grabs a sweatshirt and a razorblade
And walks out, ever-so-softly
Of her quiet, creaky room

She floats down the stairs
With wondering eyes on her surroundings
"Damn, I loved this place." She thinks.
But all it did was hurt her.

She opens the wooden door
And takes a step out to the concrete stair
Leaving behind her family and friends
For the very last time

With fearful eyes she walks swiftly to the forest
Leaving footprints with every step.
She comes to an clearing
And takes a deep breath

"This is it. This is my final memory."
She takes the razor and slashes violently on arms
That have seen this actions so many times before.
She gasps, but then smiles.

Her vision becomes blurry
Her mind is blank
She drops to the ground
And leaves red pools of blood in the white snow.