Dream of Darkness

I dreamed I was missing, and no one cared....but there was one that did...and one who'm I've never met....yet somehow we were sisters....and she knew before anyone else....but no one would listen, cause no one else cared. I was alone.....with only silence and darkness...my only company were Agony and Misery. "Tonight I will be remembered.....I'll be known over everywhere...." I whisper softly....sitting there, wishing my wrists were bleeding. Maybe it'd kinda' make the pain go away....I'd been prayin' but I think I'm a few angels short. Plus, I don't wanna spend my life to find out I coulda' solved this with one prayer.  "They mighta' got the best of me.....but I'll be DAMNED if they get the rest of me...." And then blackness.

The next time they saw me I was dead, hanging, a note nailed to the tree. "I feel I'll become the most valuable, precious treasure, I am treasured only once I'm....gone...I am finally treasured....as everyone left me to bleed alone. All I needed was to be wanted, am I precious to you now? Why is it once I'm gone you care? Am I precious to you now?"

All heads were bowed in silence, the last words still hanging in the air, as if I was there, screaming them. "AM I PRECIOUS TO YOU NOW?!" but the last part of the note was over-looked....for on the back of the torn paper was something precious...

"And dear my closest friend, I long to meet you so badly...I love you so much....and though we've never met, it's like we've been though so much. And a lot of times I pretend I'm fine, you're the only 1 that knew me at all....but what hurts is that the closer we got the farther away we were....and though I kept trying to say that, I could never put it into words. So now I will wait for you....and we shall meet after you're through....please, keep me waiting as long as you like. No matter what, I will wait...I know by you I will be treasured for always."

A poem I'd wrote was read at the funeral....as Thousand Foot Krutch "This is a Call" played....several of my poems would fit, for this they chose "It Does Rain." They had had all my poems published n in a book, on show was my art and my ribbons and my already published poem...and my Certificate of Publication....the only one that cared....she couldn't even be there. Hell, no one bothered to tell her....in the eyes of my mother friendship doesn't count if you haven't met the person. After that, blackness again....

zoom in on another note...bloodied and torn on the edges..."My heart and I have decided to end it all. Let them not cry, I am glad to go. Darkness has kept me, my friend has moved on ahead...would they be angry if I joined you?" and the rest was stained with blood....zoom out and, laying there, a dead girl with a gun resting gently in her hand...in a heart-shaped pool of blood. A razor blade through a yellow rose near by...resting just barely within the pool of blood. The wrists of the girl are slit, though it wasn't the cause of death. No, it was a temporary remedy...on the wall, written in blood..."Dear my closest friend.....you won't be waiting for long..."

Little white flowers lined the room...candles and prayers and bowed heads again... "let them not cry, I am glad to go..." whispered in the air...2 gone in a week...is suicide really that contagious or...could it be that to people that don't know each other can be that close?

Valuable, precious treasures....we were both treasured over all the world....our story was told far and wide...and everyone knew our names. The 2 friends who'd never met...we became legends....yet some how we were only known after we were gone...