QUOTE : Fumbling in the dark, Josie reached underneath the frame of her bed for the plastic bag she’d<br />stashed-her supply of sleeping pills. She was no better than any of the other stupid people in this<br />world who thought if they pretended hard enough, they could make it so. She’d thought that death<br />could be an answer, because she was too immature to realize it was the biggest question of all.<br />Yesterday, she hadn’t known what patterns blood could make when it sprayed on a whitewashed<br />wall. She hadn’t understood that life left a person’s lungs first, and their eyes last. She had pictured<br />suicide as a final statement, a fuck you to the people who hadn’t understood how hard it was for her<br />to be the Josie they wanted her to be. She’d somehow thought that if she killed herself, she’d be<br />able to watch everyone else’s reaction; that she’d get the last laugh. Until yesterday, she hadn’t<br />really understood. Dead was dead. When you died, you did not get to come back and see what you<br />were missing. You didn’t get to apologize. You didn’t get a second chance.<br />Death wasn’t something you could control. In fact, it would always have the upper hand.