Dear everyone who's ever known me, never known me, always loved me, never showed me,

It's horridly dark and my skin is covered in gooseflesh. I shiver and grip for the rags whose main purpose is to keep me warm. Even wrapped in my mother and father's love, I still feel no release from the constant cold. Trapped in the never-ending abyss I whisper to no one, "I'm fine. Just tired. I had a lot to do yesterday." I mold my face the way everyone would expect a tired girl to look: sleepy smile, droopy eyelids, eyes appearing sunken. I am a master of disguise and because of that no questions are asked. For once again, I'm left alone, accompanied only by the sounds of my silent screams.

Even if you do know me, it is only polite that I introduce myself. I am the girl with the winning smile, dressed in colors; the girl with the sharp eyes. I am the girl who twirls her friends, who laughs just a little too loud, who falls in love a little too fast. But, I am the girl with the twitch behind that winning smile, the hit of black marring her rainbow exterior, the red rings around her sharp eyes. I am the girl whose heart plummets to the bottom of a 20-story building with every turn the girl makes, whose world comes crashing around her but laughs to mask her viciously heart-wrenching cries, whose love for the world results in betrayal; she is left reaching out and on her knees, screeching and choking on the sound of their name like a child reaching for her daddy while he's abandoning her.

Every morning, I wake up submerged in the all-too-familiar vast sea of water. I feel the salt scratching into my skin and burning my eyes as if I'm applying Icy-Hot directly to my corneas. Though I wish to close them, an unknown force holds them open. I know by now that looking down is useless. Black--dark, like the feathers of a raven--will be the only thing under me, its clammy palms twisting up my legs and holding me in place as I kick and scream. I can feel every water molecule as they cling to my skin and fill my mouth in my futile attempts to fill my lungs with oxygen. Everyone I know is around me, laughing, throwing their array of colored beach balls, happily running on the beach with their toes sinking in minuscule grains of sand. But I hear nothing. My screams, in hopes of being rescued, have been lost in the overwhelming silence that is unbearably loud though it cannot be measured in decibels. This is the worst part, because everyday I am drowning while I watch everyone around me breathe. My 14 hours are finally up as I feel the world fade out around me and my struggling stops. The sadness--found only by those unlucky enough to have been dragged into it by the current--draining me of my willpower and my last breath until, finally, I am unconscious. While I sleep, the sea rehearses it's ballet, waiting to perform it for me in the morning.

But, every once in blue moon, I look over and see a struggler, a wanderer, someone participating in this masquerade, someone just like me. With all the struggles I've encountered, I am able to drag my abyss to the struggler. Even though I am suffocating, I can give them my last little bit of breath and allow them to support themselves on me as I drift into unconsciousness, the first hint of a smile playing on my face.

If you only knew what a smile can hide...

Sincerely,

F.