Disclaimer- I don't own anything from criminal minds except for the plot of the story is mine :b - Hope You ENJOY!

As she looks at herself in the mirror, all she sees is failure, insecurities, and worthlessness. She opens the top drawer, moves a towel, and takes out her razor. She lifts her sleeves and slides the blade across her arm, which was already covered in cuts and scars. She instantly goes numb. All of her present emotion has left her body, leaving her just a ghost of a person. She puts a fresh bandage on her arm and plops down onto her bed, Closing her eyes and shutting out the world.

It had been a long case. The killer was torturing and killing girls, all under 13. They caught him, but not before he had killed his last victim. She was a 9 year old girl named Claire. Emily was the one who found her. She just lay there, lifeless. No innocent person (let alone so young) deserves to leave the world that way.

After 2 hours of nightmare-filled sleep, Emily had, had enough. She couldn't take this anymore. Every moment of every day. She feels as if she is not good enough. No one even noticed, when she had stopped eating, and if she did eat, it would be no more than a few bites. That was because no one cared. She knew that even if she died right there and then. No one would care.

She walked to the bathroom and just stood there, staring at the counter. She stared at the blade that she had just cut herself with. She knew what she had to do. She had to do it to release the pain. Everything would be better when she was gone. The team would hire another person, a way better profiler, to take her place. Nothing would drastically change around her if she were dead. It would actually make the world a lot better. She had made up her mind, Not only for herself but she did it for everyone around her.

She opened the top drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a piece of paper. She had kept it there just in case she actually built up the courage to do what she was about to do. She took a pen from the top of her dresser and started to write.

When she had finished, she put the piece of paper down onto her nightstand, got up, and walked into the bathroom as if nothing were wrong. But she was the only one who knew that something was wrong. Heck! Everything about her was wrong. Nothing anyone could say or do could change how she felt about herself. She was just an ugly, fat, stubborn, bitch that no one wanted to be around. The only thing she desired now, was the feeling of the blade slicing through her worthless skin.

At that moment, everything bad anyone had ever said or done to her was jumbled up into a huge ball, clouding her brain with the urge to just end it all.

So She did