The girl with the raven black hair was not long for the world. She lay naked on the bed, empty eyes to the ceiling. Hazy thoughts drifted through her drug hazed mind, but she was unable to focus on any of them. It had been ten hours since Natalie had left, and she had not moved since except for a couple hours earlier, when she had grabbed the ecstasy and scissors from the nightstand drawer.
It was raining hard, harder then she could ever remember. The constant rapping of the drops provided a background symphony to her ordeal. It was perfect for her mood. The beat of the water changed and twisted, dancing on the fading remnants of her trip. Her wrists hurt, like nothing else had ever hurt before, but she had to take it. One last little bit of pain, and then it would be done.
She didn't think it would be like this when she made the decision. She thought it would be much warmer and fuzzier, something to take her home. It wasn't. It was cold, miserable, and painful. Not what she expected.
The pain in her heart is worse than her wrists. Natalie. The girl with the raven black hair loved her, but Natalie didn't love her back. Natalie carried on the relationship as something trifling, amusing, and then broke it off when it got too serious. For the girl with the raven black hair, there is nothing worse. It is realizing someone who you thought cared, maybe even loved does not. It destroyed her.
And this is where she has ended up. At the end of an ecstasy high, bleeding profusely from self inflicted cuts in both wrists, dying slowly. She sighs deeply, and sinks deeper into the swallowing haze. She just wants it to be over, just wants it to be gone.
She rolls over off the bed and, barely realizing it, hits the floor with a violent thump. She doesn't feel it. But someone in the apartment below hears it. Her eyes drift to a close and she curls up on the hardwood floor. Everything becomes dark and soft, slight and without definition. She is on the edge now, slipping to the point of no return.
She doesn't hear the rain anymore. She doesn't hear the insistent knocking. She doesn't hear the loud, sudden crash, and she doesn't hear the blaring sirens that carry her off into the night.