I should do it.

I should.

Since when was Leah Clearwater a wimp? Since when did I back down from a challenge? Death has been challenging me since day one. It took my father away. I lost friendships and love. I lost my humanity. My femininity. I lost my refuge. I lost it all.

What's the point of living?

Everybody wants me dead. I want to be dead.

So I stood there...gazing at the thrashing waters, the deep murky blankets were eager to claim another soul from this cruel world. The clouds thundered fearlessly and I longed to suddenly grow deaf from anything. I didn't want to hear him and his thoughts about her.

I wanted to be blind. I never wanted to see them kiss. I didn't want to smell his scent over her skin. I didn't want a taste of the pain, only to feel it full on later.

I didn't want to be in this wedding. I didn't want anything to do with them...why couldn't they understand? They hurt me too much, I was being closed in by the walls around us...and here they go, just continuing with my pain. Did they get a kick out of torturing me? Did they suddenly grow vindictive by nature, did they hate me? Why? What is a valid reason for anyone of their right mind to ask me to be a bridesmaid, at the wedding that was supposed to be mine? Why?

So to erase all these problems, to make sure I never have to endure this punishment again, I have to erase me. Erase my existence from this world. Delete my name. Burn any pictures. Forget that I ever lived and walked the earth.

Forget that my life was so pathetic. Forget that it was so agonizing that I couldn't even live without wanting to cry every morning and weep every night. Forget the unbearable pain. Forget...forget it all.

It's over. Fate wins. It's achieved what it's always wanted. The death of Leah Clearwater on its hands. The death of me.

I lost.

And it was then that I realized that I contradicted the very essence that is me.

It is true that I never back down from a challenge. I never lose either. So why should I give in now? Who cares if people wanted me dead? Who should and would give a flying fuck? I'd stay alive anyway, just to annoy them some more. It's what I do. I live and breathe off of proving people wrong.

And, suddenly I remembered.

I had my senses all wrong. I didn't need to lose my sense of sight, sense of hearing or sense of taste and smell...I needed to lose all hope of ever touching something and feeling. Yes. That's it. Feel.

Emotionless. Numb. Bored. Silent. Monotone. Comatose. Words that would soon describe the new me.

A new me.

A new me that would never lose. A new me that would shock others. A new me that would make Emily's scarred face spasm in self-loathing. A new me that would make Sam bite his lip in undeniable guilt. A new me that would make Paul shut up in true fear. A new me that would make weak souls like Kim cringe. A new me that would kill the innocence in my brother's heart. A new me.

A new me that would be so emotionless...a new me that would never quiver my lip in any reaction. A new me that would confuse others.

My mental state was dead. Physically I would be there...however, my other quantities would be locked forever. I would never give anyone the satisfaction.

I will never give myself to anyone. I will never feel again. Yes, a new me.

A new me that would stare into space and see freedom from above. A new me that would be smart enough to never reach for it. Never dream of it. Because freedom in this hellhole is a dream, but never getting it was a nightmare. And knowing that you would never get it, was wisdom.

But this wisdom was acquired to heart-break and depression, this type of street smart wasn't granted to anyone. Since I had it...I was going to use it against them.

So while I'm living this terror, I'm gonna hurt them in ways I never knew possible. I was going to avenge.

I win.