The ****s are to show where new paragraphs begin. The <>s are to show italics. **** The noises that filled the air; friends and family laughing, soft jazz spilling into the room through overhead speakers, silverware clanging against each other, waiters and waitresses taking hungry customers' orders—they all sounded so distant to Kim as she examined the fork, turning it around and around in her long, slim fingers, wondering if its ends were sharp enough to cut through her wrist and actually do some real damage. She pressed her finger tips to them—to her disappointment, they felt extremely dull, as if the bistro founder anticipated the chance of a suicidal teenager coming here. **** Frustrated, Kim tossed the fork back onto the table. It slid across the red silk table cloth until it bumped into a carving knife, making a small of a sound. She sat up in her stiff, wooden chair, and reached for the knife, holding it to where the light shone on it, making it flash back the reflection. It had a rough, jagged edge that was sure to do the trick. **** She began to press it to her wrist under the table, when her older sister, Beth, turned to her. “Why are you so quiet?” she asked. They were all at Tony's, a small Italian restaurant, to celebrate Beth’s graduation. “We’re all having fun and you just sitting there.” **** Kim didn’t answer, but quickly shoved the knife into her black purse. **** Beth noticed the silver as it glinted in the light. “What’s that?” she demanded. **** “I’m going to the restroom,” Kim said, pushing her chair back from the table. There was a loud screech as the wooden chair ran along the wooden floors. She swerved her way through the tables hastily, knowing Beth was on her trail. She pushed past the door marked WOMEN, ending up in a waiting room that had been aggressively sprayed with a citrus scented air freshener. Kim knocked impatiently on the door. **** “Just a minute,” a voice called. **** But Kim didn’t have a minute. The door from which she came was thrust open, of course, by Beth. “Kim?” **** Kim ripped the knife from her purse and brought it to her wrist before her sister could do anything. The bathroom door opened and its occupant stopped in her tracks, watching as Kim slit her wrist, popping the major artery. A searing pain spread through her arm and scarlet liquid poured from the wound. Kim smiled slowly. **** “” **** “” the woman said. ****Beth’s hands were on her then, her fingers wrapping themselves above the wound in a desperate attempt to stop or at least postpone her sister’s death. But it was no use. Kim started to laugh as her world went black.