I called her. She didn't answer.
Something is wrong. I know it, I can feel it.
Her light is on; it is bright, very bright. I opened the door.
I feel a cold draft coming at me.
It feels like 10 degrees. I see her zoning out. She has a smile on her face. I wonder why. The window is wide open, there is snow on the ground. I saw terror in her eyes. I start to smell blood. Maybe I could have smelt blood when I came in to her room but was to distracted on looking for her.
I see the cats liking her wrist. I wonder why. I see blood on the floor, in a puddle next to her.
Am I too late? Will she survive? Why did she do this? I can’t think.
I was disturbed by the way she laugh and laugh at the pain. Evan though she is laughing, you could see the terror in her eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.