For this I had to personify an object, so I chose a tree. Then Idk what happened, my thoughts started drifting. 

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I stand there like I always do, rooted to the ground. I don't do much but just stand there, watching the events that unfold before me. I don't intervene, I just simply watch. Occasionally I'll whisper a comment to some kids as they climb on me, but I never complain. In the summer I wear a thick green jacket, that gradually shrinks over time as the color fades to brilliant reds, orange, and gold before finally withering away completely. I'm surrounded by others the same as me. Sometimes on windy days we can hold a conversation, but on most days we are all alone with our thoughts.

Over the time I've lived here, I've seen many things. Some things happy. Some things sad. I've seen many people come and go. I've seen much life, and some death. I see the effects of death many times, but only once I've actually found the horrors of deaths at my roots. It's a story worth telling, so others can learn. I've even told the story to the others on a stormy night not long after it had happened. For I have witnessed the effects of death, but for the first time I was the one feeling those emotions.

My story begins with a young girl. She used to come and climb in my branches. She was kind, and never tried to harm me. She was kind to the birds and creatures that called my branches their home. But as I watched the girl grow up, she grew lonely, and I became her only company. I wished I could provide more comfort to her, occasionally I would try to whisper something encouraging, but the girl doesn't understand my language.

Many times the girl came to me, sobbing and crying, angry with the world, angry with herself. All I could do was cradle her in my branches. She explained how everybody has replaced her, how her friends had found better friends. She explained that she couldn't be herself. She couldn't let anybody know how she really felt. She explained how worthless she felt, and how she felt was not needed in this world. She claimed that I was the only thing that had always been there for her.

I can never leave. I'm rooted to the ground just as i've been for years upon years. I was always there for her, but no matter how much I willed for her to learn my language, so I could help my new friend, she couldn't. I desperately wished I could have a conversation with the girl, and tell her that everything will be okay. I'd tell her some stories of times long ago when I was just a mere sapling, in hope of lifting her spirits.

One day the girl came again. But something was different. She didn't seem as sad as she normally did, but calm. She didn't talk as she usually did. For a while she just laid at the base of my trunk, writing something on a piece of paper. It took her a while to perfect what she was writing, she had erased and rewrote it several times. When she finally satisfied, she folded up her paper and laid it gently in a hollow in my trunk. I didn't realize what she was planning until I watched in horror as she pulled out a knife. She sat back down and leaned up against my trunk once again. I pleaded with her to stop, to think about what she was doing. But I was only a tree. I didn't have the power to stop her. So all I could do was watch, as the girl took the knife to her wrists, slicing the veins.

I watched as the life slowly drained out of her. How her eyes closed and her heart started to slow until it finally beat one last time. I watched as her family found her. They desperately shook her, in false hope that maybe, just maybe, she would wake up. They found the note that she had given to me to share with her family. They took her body away and then the shock of what had happened hit me like a strong, unexpected, gust of wind. That night it stormed, and that night I grieved.

My point in telling you this story, is that you should learn something. Even though someone might seem perfectly fine around others, you never know what they're like when they're alone. Look for subtle signs that they show in desperate hope that maybe someone will care enough to notice. If you ever notice someone like the girl in my story, please, care enough to help. I do not like to think about all the people in this world that think their life is pointless, that they only live to feel pain. No one should have to go through that, because everyone deserves to feel love.