"I'm not old enough to drink." Misha frowned to herself. She had her reservations with alcohol, father being a raging alcoholic, but she wasn't going to let her friends hear that. She could never let anyone hear that.
	She took another swig from the bottle. She wasn't sure what it was and she only had a vague idea of where it came from, but it was bitter, as if it'd come from the pits of hell sent straight to her to get her drunk as fast as possible. She sighed into the mouth of the thing as it bit at her and begged her to take another sip. It was her first night trying the stuff and Shizune wasn't even with her; it only served to bring her down even more.
	Hurting like this was normal for her. She'd been reset to her original position like an unplugged pinball table. As soon as she left her room come morning, her lights and bumpers would flicker back to life and the score would return to zero. She'd pull back the plunger, go to class, and let it go, desperately hammering the flippers to keep things going until she could let it all crash down and go through the same things again the next night.
	It was a self-destructive lifestyle, that much she was sure of. Her undying devotion to Shizune was really the only thing keeping her going. She had no plans for the future, no life outside of the council- comprised of she and Shizune alone in the first place -and almost nothing to keep her from just ending it all. Suicide had been on her mind for a long, long while, but she was too afraid; too much of a coward to feel any real pain. Fights were nothing. Family troubles were nothing. Self-infliction was a ballpark she wasn't ready to play in.
	Feeling sorry for herself came second nature as well. She twisted and turned the bottle, looking over every inch of it, golden eyes heavy-lidded and full of a wetness she had stopped trying to prevent long ago. As the night wore on, more of the alcohol was disappearing, and more of her thoughts were becoming disjointed. She took another drink, perfectly aware that she was going to destroy herself by doing it. She felt the liquid wash over her throat, sore and dry from screaming into her pillow. She was a mess, that much was for certain. The worst part, she considered, was that she couldn't tell a soul about it.
	Not because they'd change their opinions of her. They wouldn't believe her. She'd be dismissed as a kidder, a joker, and it'd only make her feel worse. She didn't dare contact her parents to ask them for financial assistance in getting professional help, they would do the same thing they always did. Her father wouldn't talk to her, her mother would talk about monetary problems for a while and then get tired of the conversation and give up.
	The alcohol in the bottle was starting to taste a little better. Maybe that meant she was getting drunk. She sat it by the nightstand and scooped up the little box next to the bedside. Within the compartments, all labeled with a different day, were three pills each. Her hands trembled. Had she decided on what she was going to do? Was she really ready to die? She'd given it some thought, sure, but this was a potentially life-ending decision. She put her fingers on the lid of the first of the little sections, but brought them away with a grunt of frustration. The box went back to where it was and the bottle came to her lips again, faster this time.
	"I love you." She shuddered as the words left her lips. Was she talking to the bottle or the girl in her dreams? She didn't know anymore. "I love you I love you I love you." Her voice was slurred ever so slightly on the end, trailing into one word as she muttered it again and again. But, she sighed. Shizune couldn't have heard her even if she was in the same room. She hadn't heard her the first time and she wouldn't hear it the same way Misha always meant it. How she wished Shizune wasn't deaf; signing how much she cared about her meant nothing if she couldn't put any emotion into it. She couldn't ever sign it right. She couldn't ever do anything right.
	But the bottle went back to the nightstand next to the pill case and she flung back into her pillow, wailing for the third time that night. She gave the clock a glance as she went down to the depths of pain once more, and it was only 11:30. The night was only just beginning. Tears laughed at her as they dribbled down her cheeks before being sucked up into the pillow hiding her face and masking her screams. She felt like a child throwing a tantrum the way her fists weakly pounded into the bed, desperately hoping something would snatch her up and take her away to a place where life didn't matter, where there was nothing but happiness.
	She eventually got the courage to sit up again, and the edge of the bed awaited her once more. The cycle started over; feeling sorry for herself, chugging the bottle, hesitating to scoop out the pills. But this time, she didn't hesitate. It was time to take them anyway. She pulled out the day's pills and swallowed them, downing them with the alcohol. She knew that soon she would get tired, the bottle would be finished off, and then she'd fall asleep.
	But then, she'd awake again. It would be the morning again and the night's events would be for nothing. She'd begun to chip away at her own mental block, and now she was regretting taking the pills. Her head would get cloudy before she could work out her emotions fully, as per usual, and she'd slip right back into the facade she put up.
	In a way, she hated Shizune. Her confession had literally fallen on deaf ears. She didn't want to hate anyone, it just wasn't in her nature. But, somehow, she knew that if she hadn't bothered to ask her at all, it'd be worse for both of them. She'd been thinking a lot recently, and thinking was bad for her. It always had been. She hated Hisao, too. He intruded on her perfect life and drove her to nothing but anguish, bringing up the memories she'd so badly hoped to forget.
	She fought to stay awake against the pills, which took action quickly. She downed the rest of the bottle, limply tossing it aside. The second day of pills popped open and went down her throat. Then, the third, and the fourth, and the fifth, and the sixth, and the seventh. The box returned to the night stand once more, this time empty. Misha hovered over it for a few minutes, though it felt like hours, mind completely blank.
	Slowly, her body started to chug again. Her breath returned to normal and so did her pulse, but she still couldn't bring herself to move. She asked herself again if she was ready to die, and this time she didn't have an answer. She looked at the clock: 1:25. So, it had been hours.
	Before she could even settle back down to think about what she'd just done, she leaned over the side of the bed and vomited on the carpet, rolling off of the comfy safe haven and onto her side. The thud of her body against the carpet frightened her, and her eyes went wide as she suddenly felt ill. She coughed and sputtered a few times.
	The original pills she'd taken were starting to take effect, and her lids were getting heavy. She shook and writhed regardless, colder than she'd been in a while. What would Shizune think if she saw her like this, huddled in a ball on the floor and crying? What would anyone think? She had so much to live for all of a sudden, and regret tingled at the back of her mind as she took a look at her wavering hand and wished it would stop moving so much. Shizune would miss her, everyone would miss her.
	Regardless of how she felt, people perceived her as somewhat of an enigma; loud, proud, and not afraid to show it. She was naive to them, her classmates, her teachers. And, only now, after she'd already decided to take the coward's way out, did she realize she liked it that way. She wanted nothing more than for her friends to have the spotlight, to make others happy. It was all she lived for, and now she'd gone and ruined it. All she could do now was wait for her shuddering and vomiting to subside into sleep and pray that she would wake up alright in the morning. The irony scalded her as it made contact with her flesh.
	Hisao's words went through her ears again. "I just think that killing yourself is the biggest regret a person could end up with."
	As she choked on her bile again and her shivering worsened, sleep started to overtake her. She was crying again, fighting it, promising to the powers that be that should she wake up, she'd be different. She'd change for the better. She'd be the Misha everyone already saw her as, and that she wouldn't therefore have to do much at all. She wrapped her arms around herself and curled up even tighter, squeezing out the last few tears she could manage.
	She didn't want to die.
	She didn't want to die.
	She didn't want... to...

	When she raised her head, the sun greeted her weak, tired, red eyes. The sound of birds chirping outside alerted her that it was morning, time for her to go to class and greet Shizune. She was changed, for the better. She was changed into a better Misha; one everyone thought was incapable of sadness. She managed a weak smile, and then the tears overtook her again.