"Take the ti-time just to l-listen.. W-when the voices screaming out much to looud.." My voice shook and cracked as I swallowed the 4th-5th-6th-7th pills, "Tell me only if it-it's r-real.." I chewed my lips and swallowed the 10th-11th-12th tablets."She's just another lost s-soul.." The 17th-18th-19th-20th capsules exploded like bitter grape seeds down my throat. "I'm fa-face down on the tr-tracks.. The train is coming fast.. B-but it's n-not derailing.." I sobbed through the black mascara and the 23rd-24th-25th-26th doses of death. "This is m-my last resort, do you even care if I die bleeding?" I clawed at the wet tears dripping down my face and scrambled to push the 31st-32nd-33rd-34th-35th down my dry throat. "B-Break away from everybody.." My voice lacked the emotion to carry the song so I just downed the 40th-42nd-46th- 40 something? My head was throbbing and my eyes distorted the view of the small bathroom that connected to my beige room. All I knew was that I could smell the overpowering stench of bile clawing up my nose, and that the cold hard floor was real and holding me from hell.

(Her father's Point of View)
The incident was three years ago and we just started going through Ally's room. I shook my head and started to rifle through the light pink drawers. Her cheerleading uniform lay untouched in the closet adjourned with her tailored designer clothes. I turned to the door as tears threatened to brim across my eyes. Her mother stared at me with wide green orbs of salty sadness. Her eyes were the bright, curious, emeralds Ally charmed everyone with and it pained me to even look at her. I winced and turned back to her diary, a thick film of dust coating the entire room. I pressed my glasses further up my straight pale nose, eyes watering from the thick, stale air. I grabbed the purple journal with the pink butterfly pages and headed downstairs to the living room, shutting the door that held the pathway to my dear daughter. I plopped myself on the beige chase lounge and looked at the journal with sick anticipation. I felt as if I had started reading a suspense novel to find that it was only half of a book- the other half still unwritten. I opened the small diary, flipping to just a week before she died.
"January 7th,
Today at cheer the voices were awfully loud. And I turned to the bleachers while we were doing our stretches and saw these 3 girls- Uhm.. They were women I guess, they looked older then anyone who wasn't a coach or a teacher did. But, they just stared at me with this.. Cynical look.. And I asked Ashley about them and se told me that there was nobody even there.. Their faces looked like hawks and I tried to ignore them but they just stared at me and everyone was giving me this look of confusion and.. Everybody was glaring at me. The women in the bleachers kept looking at me.. They followed me home and while I was driving home they were just sitting in the backseat, glaring at me with these horrible looks, "Get out of my car! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" I asked them, I was mad that they were there and they told me "We have been assigned to you. You are ours." They just looked.. Cold."
Was Ally a.. I didn't even want to think the word.. How could we not have known, I mean.. I don't even know anything about it..
January 8th
I spent my entire Saturday researching things like this, and today has been odd as well, I  think that I could be a schizophrenic -Just the thought of it hurts, writing it just makes it seem more real- The symptoms that it has are
"1. Disorderly or unorganized speech patterns. (I haven't been able to talk very well, ever.)
2. Inability to distinguish real life from visual and audible   hallucinations. (Those girls that Ashley couldn't see! And the voices..)
3. Poor hygiene, or lack of concern about maintaining oneself. (Lately, mom has had to FORCE me to shower and brush my teeth and wash my face and such..)
4. Schizophrenia is commonly followed by a severe depression or restlessness. (I just can't sit here and let the voices eat me alive. It's driving me insane!)
And.. I just am sick of it.. It's kind of weird how this new hallucination started.. It's like I was looking in the mirror and brushing my hair (It calms me) and I heard this voice and it was so faint that I could barely hear it and I felt like.. Footsteps in my throat.. And I opened my mouth running on.. What is it? On instinct? Anyway, I opened my mouth and this girl with white hair that was up in pigtails (Uneven pigtails) practically jumped out of my throat, she hopped out of my throat and onto my hot pink, flowery bedspread and she grew.. She was growing really rapidly.. And within mere minutes she was my height and she had solid white eyes, decorated by dark thick liquid eyeliner, she whipped out her forked tongue (It was pale and dry.. Like a snake's) and slapped it across my cheek, it left a sharp tingling pain.. Like I had been hit with a rose bush of hypodermic needles. I screamed at her to go, to leave me, but she just kept growing.. And.. I don't like living (Blunt.) I just.. It takes so much energy and for what? To live to find the next days invisible-to-everyone-but-Ally people? I just.. I can't handle this.. I don't want it anymore. All I really want is the blissful sleep of death. Sleep, they can't touch me in my sleep.. I think I'm going.. To.. Going to go to.. "sleep"..
I bit my lip, tears crashing over my pale thin eyelashes, "Oh god.. Ally.." I said to myself, silently. I set the book on the table with a force that scared me, and scared my wide-eyed wife.. "Claudia.. She.. She was a-a s-schi-schizophreni-" Sobs wracked through the very core of my body and Claudia rushed over, but alas, I was gone. Numbed by the truth that Ally's journal had shown me, only in this blind state did I notice the paper, it was wrapped up with a pretty black bow and glued onto the back of her journal, the bow was crumpled from my slamming it onto the table but I pulled the paper off the back of the girly journal, the light blue stationary still carrying a whiff of her roses and vanilla perfume. The smell.. That smell of her perfume on her suicide note, broke me.
I stood up and opened the letter. I read over the tear-stained letter, I could see the shimmer of the blue glitter pens in the pretty girl handwriting. I held the letter in my hand, pulled a small object out of my back pocket and held it against the paper, the blue shriveling and condensing into black. The air quickly filled with black smoke and Claudia rushed to put out the small fire that I held in my hands, and an idea struck me. I quickly took the burning note and placed it under the curtains, lighting them and dropping ashes on the furniture, Claudia tried frantically to escape so I grabbed her by the throat, I held her with my forearm an iron bar across the small throat that gave her life. I helped the fire spread even more, grabbing my propane tank from beside the barbecue, holding it and Claudia. And I ran, midblaze.