Naked, dead, and soaking in my own blood, in their pristine master bath. The idea made me want to cry for myself. I could imagine the shock and horro... of my parents. I wanted them to suffer, I wanted them all to fucking suffer. I felt so fucking alone. I hurt so bad. Why didn't anyone love me? It wasn't the lacerations to my wrists that made me pass out, it was the bottle of my moms Xanax that I swallowed. In the end I suppose it was a bit theatrical after all. I was found, not by my. "Let's get you another beer and then we can find you some nice men."We were making our way over to the beer-ute when Belinda's phone rang."It's Andrew," she said. "Hang on, it's probably some lame excuse for why he's late."She answered it, but couldn't hear properly over the music. She caught my eye and held up a finger – just one minute – and then trotted off to find a quieter place.I realised with a chill that I was all alone without my wing-girl for protection, and... yep, everyone was. More

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