As I feel the ice cold water effortlessly penetrate my thin, blood-covered garments, I plunge into an expanse of black, stormy hopelessness, cringing one last time as the rocks slice through my delicate, pale skin.

I become one with the deathly waters that rapidly engulf my worn-down body. A smile spreads across my face as I embrace my fate. My blood dyes the dark water a deep red, and I surrender to the pressure of the waves, the rocks, and my own intense desire to rip apart the life I wasted years nurturing.

As I release one last breath, I let go of my fears, my worries, my life - the life that drove me to this point of insanity that would refuse to let me live in peace. My eyelids become heavy; they drop one last final time, leaving me no choice but to take the destiny I had prepared for myself.

I struggle to move, to see, to breathe, but this time I went too far. There are no second chances. The choice to live life had been destroyed long ago, ripped and burned, never to be thought of again, but I thought the unthinkable, and with all the strength I could muster, I uttered the one phrase that was too late.

Wallowing in regret and despair, I opened my bleeding mouth ever so slightly, and while exerting enough strength to be screaming, I muttered, "Help me," and then I was at peace.