Triste laid in her bed, sadder than usual. Her older sister, Clara had walked into their room. "Oh, you're up early. It's only nine." She joked. Triste glared at her. "Hey, I didn't mean anything by it... what's biting ya?" She giggled. Clara was always happy. Never a frown on her face or a bad thought in her mind. Sure she was clueless mostly but that's why Triste loved her. "To be honest... I don't know. Atlas told me when I get like this to play my guitar or do something else I like but, I'm just not feeling motivated enough..." Triste said. Clara was silent for a minuet. "Well... your therapist can't always be right can she?" Clara tried to make Triste fee better. "Feel motivated enough to see a movie with your big sis and her boyfriend?" Clara asked, brushing Triste's hair out of her eye. "Ugh, pass. I hate Mark. He's so loud and energetic. I mean, perfect for you, but I can't stand him." Triste sat up and looked at her sister. Clara was giving her the puppy eyes. "No... don't you dare." Triste warned, crawling until she hit the wall. "Please... I promise I'll make it worth your while. We'll go to lunch after." She said in a pouty voice. Triste groaned. "Fine. You win." She said, getting out of bed and going into her closet. Though her family was rich, she preferred to wear a black sweater and adidas pants, complete with blue adidas shoes. She brushed her long dark brown hair and put it into a messy bun, so some hair still covered her eyes. She made sure it covered all the way passed her eye and freckles down to her chin. She looked in the mirror. She was short for her age but Clara called her "fun sized". Triste hated it but her family got a good laugh from it. As Triste examined herself, she realized —as she had everyday— that she looked nothing like her sister. Triste was just pale while Clara had fair skin, Triste had messy brown hair and Clara had shiny black hair. They both had freckles on their faces, necks, and right shoulder, but that's where the similarities ended. Clara was ten years older than Triste though. Sometimes she didn't believe it. Clara was twenty five and still watching over her fifteen year old sister. The two walked downstairs. "Girls, where are you going?" Their mother asked. "Jesus Mary leave em be!" Their father shouted. "David, don't tell me how to worry about my girls. Their mother said. "Don't worry mother, we're just going to the movies." Clara said. "Oh! Triste, dear, take your pills Incase you get a panic attack." Their mother walked to them. "I got em ma." Triste replied. Triste of course lied. She never carried her pills. She hated taking them in public. People always asked and her classmates always teased so she stopped taking them all together. Explaining why she needed fifty grams of Zoloft was not something Triste talked about. She hardly ever talked anyway. Most people thought she couldn't. Clara led Triste out the door and they walked to the small theater. Maudit was a quiet town. Nothing bad had happened usually. Except when Triste's best friend, Cassidy stopped talking or going near her. Triste had no idea why. She just assumed Cassidy was tired of her. They got to the the theater and Mark, Cassidy's older brother was there waiting for them. He kissed Clara's forehead and looked at me. "Hey kiddo! How's it goin?" Mark asked. Triste covered her ears. Mark was loud, she hated it when things were loud. "Oh, right." He looked a bit embarrassed. "Sorry I startled ya." He apologized. Triste got the tickets and they went to watch the movie. As usual, the theater was empty. Nobody came to the movies in Maudit anymore. They were all to busy or shy to leave their houses or job. Triste thought movie was mediocre at best. It had a lousy plot, annoying characters, and it had so many plot holes it was only confusing. She had noticed Clara and Mark spent the entire time talking instead of watching the movie. Something they did all the time. Talk and not pay attention to what they're supposed to. Clara went to use the restroom before they left, leaving Triste alone with Mark. "So, Cassy wanted me to give you something... feeling up to some news today?" He asked. Triste shrugged and Mark gave her an envelope. "What the hell is this?" Triste asked. "Read it later." He answered. She put the envelope in her pocket and Clara came back. They went to lunch but all Triste could focus on was how loud everything was. She sprinted to the restroom and sat in a stall after locking the door. She took out her pocket knife Mark had given her for a past birthday and rolled up her sleeves. She cut both arms four times each. Each one hurting more than the last. She cried and her tears fell into the small pool of blood in her hands. She eventually calmed down and took one more quivering breath before getting out of the stall and washed her eight new scars. She then felt guilty and ashamed that she'd do such things to herself. She rolled down her sleeves and put away the knife. She went back to the table. "You sure took your time. I was about to go in to save you." Clara joked. Triste tried to laugh. It was a fake laugh. Clara couldn't tell. Mark did. He looked at Triste with concern. "...kiddo, are you ok?" He asked. Triste nodded and hoped he forgot about it as they ate. When she got home, Triste went into her room and opened the envelope.

"My dearest friend,

        I know we have not spoken in a long while. The truth is... I was afraid to tell you the truth. I do hope for your forgiveness. I suppose you have a right to know what is happening. I have been diagnosed with a terminal illness for some time now. And... I am going to die soon. I would like to see you at least one more time. I understand if you prefer to distance yourself... you never did like forming close relationships. Please do consider it though.

        - Cassidy Marie Conwell"

Triste shook as she re-read the note. Tears formed in her eyes and fell onto the paper. She ran as fast as she could to the hospital. "Cassidy Conwell! I need to see her!" Triste told the receptionist, who also happened to be her neighbor. Mrs. Piendre. The high school art teacher's wife. "Lovely to see you to Triste. She is in room 304." She said. Triste walked to the elevator and took it to the third floor. She took a deep breath, and entered Cassidy's room. "C-cassy? How are you feeling?" Triste stuttered. Cassidy looked up from her book and to Triste. She smiled wide. "Triste! Dear it's wonderful to see you!" She said. Triste walked to Cassidy and sat in the bed by her. Cassidy held her hand. "Thank you for coming dear. I know how you feel about hospitals." She said. Triste hugged Cassidy. "I missed you to Triste." Triste chuckled as tears rolled down her cheeks. "You're to young to die..." Triste mumbled. "...I know dear... but I promise, I'll watch over you when I am gone." She smiled sweetly. "Now, what have I missed?" Triste stayed and talked for a while until Cassidy fell asleep. She looked at the heart monitor and a long beep started. The line went straight.

(Wanna ask questions about the storyline or ask the characters something? Write em in the comments and I'll be sure to answer. Or, Y'know, go to my tumblr. Thank you wonderful readers for reading this!)