Today, this morning, actually, I learned that a classmate of mine committed suicide. I wasn't best friends with her, I didn't have a nickname for her, and, really, at school, I barely saw her. I go to a very small school, and we're an amazingly closeknit community.

I worked at Porter Adventist Hospital with Yamini. I saw her, ate lunch with her, and hung out with her 8 hours a week for 14 weeks. Not once did she ever show any signs of depression, and I wish she could have reached out to me. No, not me. I wish she had reached out to anyone in the Kent Denver community. She had a huge group of friends who would have been willing to help her through anything she was going through. She had amazing teachers who would have given her help if she had asked for it. She had a loving family who did everything they could for her. But, if I've learned anything from my experiences with depression, it's that sometimes when you have all of this and you still feel sad, it almost makes it worse. You feel like you should be happy, and you come to hate yourself because you're not.

No one will ever know why Yamini chose to end her life, we won't know if she regrets it now, or if she's in a better place. What I do know about Yamini is she knew how to liven up any party. So, wherever she is, whatever she's doing, I'm willing to bet she's having fun.

Rest in peace...No, that's not acurate. From what little I know about Yamini, I definetly know she wasn't peaceful.

So, I'll say this: Goodbye, Yamini. Your teachers, family, friends, and classmates will miss you impossibly. Don't party too hard up there!

-Ashley.