Disclaimer: I do not own the Avalon: Web of Magic/Quest for Magic series, or the song "Life Is Beautiful", they belong to Rachel Roberts and Sixx:A.M. respectively.

You can find this song on YouTube or Project Playlist. Yes, I know it's about heroin addiction, not self-injury, but I like the song and I thought it would go well with the story.

You can't quit until you try

You can't live until you die

You can't learn to tell the truth until you learn to lie

Time slowed down so that every agonizing second lasted an eternity. Emily followed Dreamer as he raced up the stairs, red curls flying behind her. Her mother and Lily climbed up more slowly-- couldn't they sense the urgency in the air? Emily and Dreamer reached the landing at the top of the stairs and the black mistwolf whined and scratched at the stark white bathroom door. Emily grabbed for the silver metal doorknob and twisted it open. It creaked and landed with a bang on the wall. Emily looked in--

You can't breathe until you choke

You gotta laugh when you're the joke

There's nothing like a funeral to make you feel alive

And screamed. The bloodcurdling noise ripped unbidden from her throat, echoing throughout the small cottage. She heard a startled grunt in the room across the hall, and somewhere in her stunned mind she assumed that had been Pierre. She felt her mother's presence behind her, and her firm, guiding hand on her shoulder. She was glad, because the scene displayed on the bathroom floor that night was one she was sure would haunt her nightmares for as long as she lived.

Just open your eyes

Just open your eyes

And see that life is beautiful

Will you swear on your life

That no one will cry at my funeral

There, lying almost peacefully against the corner of a wall in a pool of her own blood, was her friend. Her long, dark hair was knotted and matted with red liquid, and her eyes were closed. Her left arm, the sleeve of the skintight black sweatshirt pushed up for all to see, was mutilated. Cuts that looked like they had been made by sandpaper ran up and down from her wrist to her elbow, but the worst were the ones that were obviously the work of a razor. The old scars were barely visible under the torrent of spilled blood-- it ran like a red river from wherever the cut was and dripped onto the white tile floor. Blood still ran freely from the newly-made cuts, which triggered some hope in the Healer part of the redhaired mage. If she was still bleeding, she could still be saved.

I know some things that you don't

I've done things that you won't

There's nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home

Carolyn was the first to react. Her Emergency Vet-like efficiency spread to the others, and she began barking orders.

"Lily, call 911, now!" Carolyn didn't wait to see the thin woman dash from the hall and down the stairs, she was already searching through the cabinets to find a bandage. "Emily, lift her arm up to slow the blood flow. We don't have a tourniquet, so we'll have to make do. Here," She exclaimed, holding up a pinkish cotton bandage. She quickly and tightly wrapped Adriane's right arm, which Emily hadn't seen and didn't wish to, and tossed a white towel to her daughter. The healer did the same to her left arm, trying to keep her sickness down as the blood soaked the towel through within seconds.

"The ambulance is coming!" Lily called.

"What on Earth has that girl gone and done now?" Pierre grumbled irritably, and Emily bit her tongue to keep from shouting at him. Well, at least she knew now why the warrior hated him so much. Another thought sneaked into her consciousness. Is that why she'd tried to commit suicide? Emily's stomach turned at the prospect.

Emily's arm was aching from holding her friend's cuts above her head when she finally heard sirens in the distance. Seconds later, she heard the door bang open and the paramedics rushed up the stairs of the cottage. The red-and-white garbed professionals moved her and her mother out of the way and into the hall, where they watched, exhausted.

I was waiting for my hearse

What came next was so much worse

It took a funeral to make me feel alive

Kara sat in the middle of the portal field, picking at the sparse spring grass, Lyra dozing off a few yards away. The blazing star shivered as a cold breeze passed through the trees-- Spring was still a few weeks away, but winter seemed to have a deathgrip on the small Pennsylvania town.

The blonde teenager looked down curiously when she felt her unicorn jewel heat up. She and Lyra exchanged a confused glance, and the leopard stood up from her sunny patch and sniffed around. The red and pink lines that wound around the sparkling stone blazed, and she realized that the air was growing thick and starting to sparkle. A glittering cloud of magic began to spiral out of nowhere, and out of the portal fell-- Zach!

Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes

And see that life is beautiful

Will you swear in your life

That no one will cry at my funeral

The sandy-haired boy looked up from where he had fallen, blue-green eyes searching the field until they landed on Kara.

"Kara! I need to talk to Adriane," he cried.

A part of the blazing star was devestated-- He didn't know! But yet another part of her thought, 'Aw, how sweet!'

"Zach," The pretty girl took her friend's arm and sat him on a large gray rock. "Adriane..." She gulped. She could hardly wrap her brain around what her friend had done to herself, how on Earth would Zach react? The boy's pleading eyes urged her to go on.

"She tried to kill herself." There. She'd said it. She watched the dragonrider's eyes widen in shock.

"Di-- Did she succeed?"

Kara shook her head. "No, thank God. She's at the hospital now. Willow is with her."

"Could I see her?"

"I don't know."

Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes

And see that life is beautiful

Will you swear in your life

That no one will cry at my funeral

Zach raced from Ravenswood and into town, following Kara's directions as she shouted them from behind. He arrived at the electric sliding doors and waited impatiently for Kara to catch up. He saw someone who looked like Adriane inside the doors and rushed in, but then quickly realized that woman had darker skin, shorter hair, and a less attention-commanding presence. Nevertheless, he recognized her as Willow, Adriane's mother.

"Ms. Charday?" He asked timidly.

The woman looked up from tending to a thin, sickly-looking old woman. Gran! "Yes, sweetie?"

"Can I see Adriane?"

Willow's dark eyes betrayed her momentary confusion. "Oh! You're Zach, Adriane's friend from Allentown, right?"

Zach nodded. Willow bit her lip, but finally said, "Okay, I think she'd enjoy company that's not family. She's in room sixteen."

The dragonrider breathed a sigh of relief and stepped into the brightly lit corridor, scanning the room numbers for sixteen. He found it easily enough, and glanced in. He saw a slender figure lying under the white sheets, face turned away, staring out the window. Her long, black hair was draped over the side of the bed, a glossy waterfall cascading down about a foot above the floor.

The boy shut his eyes, inhaled deeply, and turned the knob.

Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes

And see that life is beautiful

Will you swear in your life

That no one will cry at my funeral

The end!

I loved writing this story, and I had a lot of fun with it (I know, what a terrible word to use for such a morbid topic, huh?).

Before I go, I want to clear a few things up.

1. SELF-INJURERS ARE NOT SUICIDAL. This is a common misconception about self-harm. Cutting, or any other type of self-injury, serves as a release of emotion for the person, and self-harmers usually aren't suicidal. I just thought that it would add to my story.

2. I do hope that no one was triggered to do something drastic while reading this story. If you feel you are going to, please, get help. It's out there.

Watch for my one-shot, coming out in a couple weeks, and I'm currently brainstorming for another long story, so watch for that one too. I hope you enjoyed reading this, so until next time!

--Krista (Rainpath)