August 14th : She did it. She did what we swore we’d never do. She broke that part. And I don’t know why. Her mother had found the razors on the bathroom sink. Still covered with her blood. They didn’t know what to do. Your not meant to figure out what to do when your daughter committed suicide in the bathtub.

August 17th : I didn’t want to know anything. But I was. I knew her pain and understood it. We understood our pain we felt. We understood that we both wanted to end it. We agreed to come to each other when in need, but she had said she was fine. Fine. that’s the last word I heard from her mouth. Fine. A way of communicating that she was not but I ignored the signs. Why did i do that? What was the point?

August 20th : I am starring at the razors in the store. They were hypnotizing. this is what she killed herself with. This is what she was looking at. Before I knew it I was walking away with the razors, buying them, and walking out of the store.

August 20th 17:50: It feels like I’m in a hole. A different one then I’m usually in. No one to talk to. No one to help me. The razors are in front of me. Its almost as if they are whispering to me, “this is better”. “I can help you”. I picked the razor up and used it. The feeling was interesting. For a minute in the beginning it hurt, but it was satisfying. I can’t tell you how much more i did it, other than the fact that by the end…My arm was covered with the blood.