I walk down the familiar hallway of my home. “Today is the day you take your life back,” I tell myself. I walk to where my mother completes work that she’s always been busy with, the work that took her away from me. I nervously recite what I want to say. I want to let her know about the pain I feel. The anger I feel at people. The grudges I keep. The pain of feeling alone day and night. I reach for the *** and stop. “Why?” the voices say “She’ll never understand.” “She doesn’t care, no else does.” I retract my hand and retreat to the one place I can be alone. I stare at my ceiling counting the cuts on my arm. Wishing one of them would have cut deep enough to end it all. I stare at the pills I’ve kept for days like this. I turn away from them and the ice shatters inside, replaced with an empty abyss. I wish for the ice. At least then I felt something. I shed a frozen tear, wishing my life to seep away.