At first I wondered what makes a nine year old suicidal, then I remembered my own nine year old self. She will make it, I think, in the meantime she is pulling her hair out at the roots and my heart strings with it... I only hope I can spare my own daughter some of that horrific experience.
Lively though she is, turmoil follows her everywhere. I dust the frame surrounding her plastic smile while fighting tears at such inescapable knowledge. If only I could reach her from here...
Examine closely the world around you. A simple smile can save a life.
Breathing through the sadness. Dancing in the madness. And all that other silly stuff.
None of it matters, but it all has meaning. Influence. Whatever. There's a child behind the glass, and she needs more help than any one of us could offer.