Riley sat on her bed quietly, watching 'Fanatic.' Her shoulders hunched slightly and her eyes were nearly full of tears. Not to mention, her heart was breaking silently in her chest.

Her TV was on channel twenty-six, MTV; it was going, but muted. She didn't want to hear no more. She didn't want to hear anymore after the first few seconds!

A picture of Hanson's smiling faces flashed on the screen next to a fan and two tears fell silently. Twin wet streaks ran down her cheeks. Hot, like liquid fire.

Her eyes stayed on the screen, but she didn't say anything. Only her mind raced with words.

How can he sit there… and state that he is their biggest fan? Her head screeched painfully as the tears started to blur her vision.

He didn't… he didn't try to commit suicide! He didn't go through severe depression! She thought angrily as she buried her face in her hands to cry harder.

He doesn't know every fan of Hanson's. He can't say, "I'm your number one fan!"

Slowly, Riley started to rub her face dry of the tears. Wanting to think clearly, she opened her bedroom window and let the cool breeze bath her hot face.

He didn't spend hours and days in and out of therapy or in hospitals! Begging and praying to get better, just to be able to see them in concert, only to get the nose-bleed seats!

Looking around she sighed deeply to herself from her seat. Two Hanson posters were hung one from the concert, one giant poster labeled "MMMBop", and then their calendar hung on her walls.

By the looks of it, she wasn't an obsessed fan, but she did care and respect them deeply. Didn't that count for something? Anything?

All that she done… all that she had been through… it all seemed to amount to nothing now. The pain of trying to get better, of fighting depression and trying to step out of the darkness and into the light… it all meant... nothing.

Every ounce of pride she had felt for becoming better, vanished. As if it had never exsisted in the first place. Old feelings and emotions carried her in a strong wave, one that was much stronger than herself, and once she didn't even care to try to fight now.

"Riley, dear." Her mother called from outside her bedroom door, knocking lightly.

Quickly rubbing her face and nose with her shirt-sleeve, Riley rose from her seat at her window and went to unlock her door.

"Riley Nicole, have you been crying?" Mrs. Johnson asked, scrutinizing her daughter's face for the evidence.

Reflexively, Riley rubbed her face some more with her sleeve. "Oh," She said guiltily, "No," Her mind raced quickly for a line she could deliver. "I just felt a little itchy, that's all." She concluded.

Slowly, Mrs. Johnson nodded her head, seemingly satisfied with the answer. "Okay," She busteled into the room, "It's Tuesday night, you remember what you've got to take?" She asked getting out the tablet container and opening the 'Tuesday column.'

Examining the contents, she also looked over a sheet of instructions. "Only eight pills tonight, sweetie." She said cheerfully.

Riley gave a wry smile, "Yea." She muttered to herself, while she poured a small glass of water from her water bottle.

Her mom handed her each pill separately as she took one at a time.

Afterwards, Mrs. Johnson kissed her forehead and waited for Riley to climb into bed, before turning out the light, walking out, and closing the door behind her.

Counting to twenty, Riley sat up, and turned on her night-light above her bed. She started rummaging through her shelf of medication and antibiotics.

Once her hand found the small jar she was looking for, she grinned to herself. She held it gently but firmly in her hands, as if it were a priceless gift.

She lay in her bed again, and twisted the top off. Slowly, she knocked the pills out. Nearly emptying the almost full container of Valium into her palm.

Leaning over the side of her bed, she grabbed for her water bottle again. She started popping the pills in her mouth. Swallowing six at a time.

After taking four swallows, she placed her water bottle on her desk, and lay against her pillows. Her lips started forming her old night-time prayer.

"As I lay me down to sleep, I give my soul to Christ to keep. And if I die before I wake…" Her voce started trembling there. "I give my soul to Christ to take."

"Please have mercy on me, Jesus." She begged quietly as the tears started to flow again.

Slowly, her eyes started to droop, then closed. After a few moments her breathing started to become shallow, before it ceased.