A young lady slit her wrists to die.
For most of us, she is faceless and nameless.
For some, to protect her identity;
For most, because they couldn't care less.

But she is neither faceless not nameless.
She is someone's daughter,
Someone's sister,
Someone's mother,
Someone's lover,
Someone's friend.
Tonight, they grieve for her
And the life she wanted to throw away.

We never know when someone harbours such dark thoughts;
That the world would be better if they were naught.
All we can try to do is
Be the smiling face they look forward to seeing,
Be the warm embrace when they are cold and tired,
Be the reassuring hand on the shoulder when they feel doubt,
Be present here and now for them.

Remember to be there, to be present.
Remember to reach out and not hold it all in.
Remember before the person is naught more than a memory.

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