Look at you, you seem to be alright. But thatís not what the scars on youíre wrist tell. You make everything so Goddamn dramatic, you make sure everyone is looking at you before you make youíre scene. Rachel why canít you see that youíre life is just fine? There are kids that really need a home but still they have to wait in line. You cry out to the world that youíre mom hates you and life isnít just right. There are kids that get beaten every night. Rachel Iíve seen youíre mom cry when you tell her you hate her. I heard her pray to God that you would realize how much she loves you. Rachel you donít need to be in the group home, you should be in youíre real home the one with your loving mother. Rachel I know that life doesnít seem fair espeacially when itís something up with youíre hair. Why is it when I met you, you were so happy? Why is that you didnít care what others think? Why is it that you dressed the way you want? Now you must have this style, dark black make up streaming down youíre face. You cut, so many scars left on your once flawless skin. Now you label death as youíre only defense. Why do you make the world seem so glum? Rachel, go back to the old you, quit wanting to be whatís now in. Rachel why canít you wake up?