It’s calm here, peaceful even for those who look at the scene in front of them;
There wasn’t fear, there was no more sadness;
But there also wasn’t any hope left, and life.

I saw it all unfold as if it wasn’t me;
I saw this little girl that was done with everything ;
She picked up her oh so familiar orange bottle and took one pill;
And then another, and another, and another until there were none left.

I watched as she lay down looking at her stars filled roof and a single tear escaped her face;
It wasn’t pain or remorse;
It was guilt.

Guilt for the nightmares she would cause to whatever poor soul would find her there;
Guilt for the consequences it would have on her family;
But most of all guilty for the future she could have had.

I watched as the scene unfold with this eerie sense of peace;
Until I woke up in a sweat-drenched bed;
With a complete loss of my ability to breathe.

I could feel my heart beating and the coldest of the room as it hit the wet path my tears left stained in my face;
I was afraid, as anyone would be;
But I wasn’t afraid of the dream.

I was afraid of my inability to understand what my tears represented;
Fear of the situation itself ;
Of sadness for my return to reality.