Warning: This chapter contains attempted suicide, and use of alcohol, gun violence, and cigarettes. If these make you feel sick or bad in anyway, I ask you do not leave hurtful comments to me or anyone else. Please, by all means wait until the next chapter.

Triste laid in her bed, hugging herself. It was a day ago now since Cassidy has died. It doesn't seem long, but it hurt Triste to think she'd never see her best friend again. The cutting started to hurt more and numb the emotional pain, but Triste still knew it wasn't right. She saw no other way out. Except... she wrote her family a note and left it on her desk. She then walked out of the house and to the hospital. She took the elevator to the roof and went where nobody could see her. She stood on the ledge. The cement below her would surely kill her. And from a seven story fall, there was nearly a guarantee she wouldn't survive. She put her arms out, ready to embrace the hard sidewalk. She tried jumping but everything seemed paused. The wind wasn't blowing, the birds singing had stopped, and Triste could barely move. She saw Cassidy, in a long white dress with angel wings and gold shoes. "Dear, what do you think you are doing?" Cassidy asked. "...dying." Triste replied. She cried at the sight of her friend. Triste reached out for her and hugged her. "Are... are you sure you're dead?" Triste asked. "Yes. But, I need to get into heaven or hell. I do not care. Anything is better than the emptiness of purgatory." She said. "How do you do that...?" Triste asked. "By doing a good or bad deed. Now, I'm going to show you what your families lives would be like without you dear, pay attention." Cassidy said. "Like in that one movie? Uh, I think it was called it's a wonderful life or something right?" Cassidy giggles. "Something like that dear." She said. The world disappeared around them. They were now just floating in a grey but bright space. Cassidy told Triste to close her eyes and just breathe. Triste did as she was told. "Cassy, what are you doing?" Triste asked. "I just told you." She replied. Triste looked around when things started to materialize. She saw her house. Her parents room. "This is three months after you died if you had jumped." Cassidy said. Triste looked for her. She didn't see Cassidy. She only saw her mother. Triste sat by her. "...mom?" She asked. "She can't hear you." Her mother was sobbing and holding a bottle with clear liquid. It wasn't water, Triste noticed. It was vodka. Her mother had sworn off drinking after Triste was born. Triste looked at the bottle and back to her mom. Then, as she was gone as fast as she came. She was outside now. In a city she had never seen. Her father was sitting in his car, loading a gun. Triste sat by him. "What's he doing?" Triste asked. "Just watch dear." Cassidy replied. Triste watched her dad get out of the car and to a gas station, gun in hand. "He...he wouldn't..." Triste was dumbfounded by thinking about what she was about to see. And she was right. She watched her father take down everyone in the gas station, then steal money and beer. Triste was in the house again. Her and Clara's room. She looked around it. Clara walked in with a pack of cigarettes. Instead of her usual ponytail her hair was down and over her face. She wore Triste's sweater around her waist and she wasn't wearing her normal bright colors. Clara opened the window and lit a cigarette. She just, looked off outside and didn't smile, didn't laugh, didn't even enjoy the cool autumn breeze. She just sat there, emotionless. Triste opened her eyes and was back in the grey brightness. "It may not seem bad to you, and that could be the wrong path. But, it is a possibility that it could happen. A slim one but still a possibility. Dear, I ask you to stay alive. If not for your family then for me. Your friend." Cassidy said. Triste nodded. "I will..." she replied. The world went back to normal, and Triste sat on the hospital roof, watching people go about their lives.