The girl is at home in her room, which is on the 2 floor of the house, facing the window. This girl has no face. She can only imagine and hear the raindrops. she does not move a muscle, she is too petrified to move a muscle. after sitting their for what seems like forever she moves her arm in slow movements, she only has to move it a couple inches to find what she is looking for. she feels the sharp edges and the holes. There's so much familiarity to this object, She's held it many of times felt it many times. She knows exactly what this object can bring, it could bring her whole life to complete happiness or it could tear her life apart. It all depends on her. She hold the object in her right hand and feels the coldness on her skin, she wonders if she is the only one who goes through this her heart is racing the blood in her veins boiling, it's like she's ready, but as she goes to do it she stops and thinks what would life be like if i do this, what would my family do, my “friends”, me? These questions race through my mind, this one thing could tear me apart and i can't keep it a secret much longer. The longer she holds this object in her hand the more her hands start trembling, her heart is torn. What can she do? Well she could do a lot of things but each will have a different outcome. One could be good. It could lead her life to college. But on the other hand it could lead her to a life of torture, a life filled with fighting and depression. She struggles to keep it a secret. This object is called a photograph...