She sits on her bed dragging her uncut fingernails over her stomach to leave red raw lines leaking bloody tears and that’s not

Gabrielle.
She texts her friends and writes on her facebook that no one would miss her if she was dead and that’s not Gabrielle.

She listens to music where the singers scream obscenities and rant uncontrollably and that’s not Gabrielle.

She brought home straight D’s all year and had to go to summer school and that’s not Gabrielle.

Gabrielle collected snow globes and painted her bedroom with pictures of dancing fairies.

Gabrielle caught snakes by the creek she explored the woods and wanted to be a veterinarian.

But the snow globes fell from their shelf and broke and the paintings of fairies got covered up and now Gabrielle doesn’t go outside anymore or care about her old dreams.

And the girl who used to be Gabrielle just stays in her room alone and she’s not my cousin that I used to know because Gabrielle isn’t here anymore.

She’s gone.