You didn't tell your parents about me, though. I didn't understand, but you just said that it would be best if they didn't know. I listened to you, I was stupid.
I decided to go to your house, that evening. I wish I hadn't.
I saw you, your black-shoulder length hair and your tall figure, with another a girl. A girl Kissing.
I didn't believe it, my eyes must have been lying to me. I closed them and opened them, but the horrible scene was still in front of me. How could you? You promised me, that you'd never kiss anyone but me. Why couldn't you keep such a simple promise?
I went over and pushed the girl off, and started shouting at you. You stood there, you're beautiful hazel eyes, trying to convince me that it was all a big misunderstanding. I didn't and walked away from you, not regretting a single step I took away from you.
4 months passed, my mom kept telling me that I should have listened to her. I needed to talk to you, possibly forgive you. I saw the sadness in your eyes when I left, but ignored it.
I started to worry...
Ri- The phone was answered, but it wasn't you. It was your younger brother, Mikey. His voice didn't sound like it usually did. It sounded lost, and sad. It wasn't soothing and calm like it usually was.
He explained to me about what you did when I left. How you went into the bathroom, and took the razor blade your mom has in the cabinet. He told me how you used it to make huge scars on your wrists, and lost so many blood. But he found you, luckily. He took you to the hospital, hoping to save you from death.
There was a pause, and as I listened; I hoped that Mikey would tell me: "He's in the hospital, he'll be out in no time and plans to see you!"
But instead, I sat there as he said the same words my mother had heard when she left my dad, 16 years ago.
"He didn't make it."