I’ve cried those tears a thousand times,” she whispers. “But those shallow empty songs about suicide are patronizing. You’ve got to learn to b... less lonely when I’m dead.”“It can’t silence all the voices in my head,” he replies. “I close my eyes, but I can’t make it go away. So you think I’ll be less lonely? I pray that I’m not lonely, when I’m dead.” He sighs, “When I’m dead I won’t feel any pain. And when I’m dead I won’t feel anything.”A smile comes over Cynthia’s face. “I know the songs. Brena heard the front door open and shut with a loud squealing of rusty hinges. Thinking, ‘I hate to hurt that boy, but I need to get out of here now or I’m lost for sure.’ She started back towards the rear when the door opened and the boy ran in, stopping when he saw her standing in the hallway rather than locked away. She put her fingers to her lips in the motion to stay quiet. He nodded in fear and backed into the corner by the door he had come in.Going to the door, she peaked into the back. More

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