An instant such as that, god only knows how much it had hurt. I resolved on a plan, a terrible, disgusting plan. One that required me to push away my conscience and semblance of self entirely.

A plan which left me ultimately heartless.

Oliver Starkweather, the only boy in the world. He had taken the part of me which made me more vulnerable to him than anyone else. Not only that, he was the only person I felt that I truly cared about, the only person, family included, that I could even begin to imagine using the word love on. The only entity that could ever hurt me. And that realization tied me to him forever.

Yet, that made me weak when I wanted to be strong, controlled when I wanted to control.

I had discovered a secret in a week that Oliver hadn’t in a year. His father; rich, generous, and virtually absent from his life, had a small additional house built on their property. Something he’d told me once was, “My dad works in sales.” At night when I couldn’t sleep, I took to exploring their big empty house. One week into my stay, I dared to venture out into the newer one. It was there that I discovered the bookcase. It appeared normal, every book on the shelf was dusty and ridiculously boring looking. The rest of the room had similar bookshelves with similar looking books, but they were mixed in with vibrant titles and a more alluring collection. From there, I began taking down books off of the shelf and flipping through them. The majority were as boring inside as they were out, but the fifth one I collected - which came from the top right corner - turned me whole perception upside down.

Being a morbid little girl, I had always been fascinated with taboos. I would sneak into my dad’s office at night and search words on his computer. Words like gore or ******* or drugs. When I opened that book I knew instantly, even at fourteen, that a book with all the inside pages cut out and baggie after baggie of white powder inside meant trouble. On the shelf, I found three more secret stashes. After that I’d seen enough.



    When the autopsy was performed, the results read drug overdose. My tracks were well covered, for Oliver’s dad assumed Oliver had been secretly dipping into his bookshelf. Dealing was a felony that Mr. Starkweather was not about to risk, so he confessed that Oliver had been struggling with a drug problem. Sweet, demure, heartbroken me was sent back home, and years of therapy brainwashed me into so much denial that I was able to bottle up the entire story and force myself to forget. Deep down, I’d always known, but my mental unrest defied that.

Consequently, he returned. Maybe karma drove me crazy, maybe it was guilt.

But more than anything, it was probably loneliness.

Taking your life was the most selfish and selfless thing I have ever done and will ever do. Oliver and I, we shared the mutual consensus that no one in the world had ever loved us as much as we loved each other. Moreover, we understood one another; we shared the commonalty of unstable upbringings, of neglect, and most pertinently, of loneliness.

We’d dually been abused, rejected, and abandoned by those who were supposed to be our caretakers and guardians and parents. Perhaps, that in itself was how we’d grown such an indestructible bond.

And yet.

I saw a glint of a monster inside of you. The previous night. A manifestation of the horrors you’d faced, suddenly channeled through you. From that moment onward, I began to understand the truth. All of the anguish you’d survived may one day define you. One day, the innocence would be gone and in its place, the product of your childhood would be born.

On the last morning of your life, who you were, was living proof of good. Proof that a person could exist so pure, and kind to the very core. The best and most honorable person in my life. The only friend I’d ever known. I wanted to preserve your memory; a perfect relic, never to be tainted by the evil which would one day consume you.

I knew that as you lived, you were the only entity I’d felt genuine compassion for. The only human I’d ever loved. The only person in the whole world who could ever hurt me. That vulnerability ran like
poison through my logic.

And so, I resolved.

And I sit right here.
Yes next to the boy that does not care.
Yes behind the girl with the painted hair.
I hate it here
But often you must live through fear
Because strength builds up the more times you exercise your restraint

failing
              and
                        falling
falli­ng
              into
                       failing
where the ****
                                   am i *going?

it is always dark before the sun
My heart never  felt the same
The pain leave mark on my chest
A moment lost but tied together with lies
I can;t turn back time
It was too late fix your broken heart
I was no doc but need a degree put this back together
We don't  think of  things we  lose
We are so stuck not thinking
Only thoughts of needs of what we want
We had something great but now its gone
Just like magic trick in the wind

I wish  could feel same
When i think of you is it  just a dream
The feeling of two hearts  as one
The pain that i feel when it all comes to an end
I learn from this and look back on my past
Why should i care  when all you is rip my heart apart
Is this just faded image  or i am stuck in this world alone
One min you cared and next  you left like bad magic trick
We love but forget its more then just words
I find my self lost deep in my own thoughts