• "Leave me alone," I said. I was looking at the ground, sniffling, and to my dismay I felt warm tears slipping past my defenses. I could barely remember what had led to this, what had led to him cradling me in his arms and apologizing over and over. "Rissa, babe, I'm so sorry," He murmured. He kept apologizing, but I didn't want to hear any of it. "I didn't mean it, I swear... I'm sorry, I didn't ever mean to hurt you..."
    I shrugged his arms off me even though I ached to feel his touch, and faced him. "No. You may not have meant to hurt me, but you did. And this is the last time."

    I remember, now, what he had done. I had come up to his room and heard strange noises. I opened the door, smiling and giggling, and started to call out his name. "Ryan, I'm here~!" I said, happily, my eyes closed in a wide smile. "How are y--" I stopped speaking as I opened my eyes and saw my beloved boyfriend with another girl kneeling before him.
    I had cried out in pain and left the room, slamming the door behind me. Frighten them, I thought. It's the least I can do.
    I'd run from that wretched place, thankfully without any passersby stopping me. I'd stopped at the park, standing before the cement wall that served as a fence, making sure noone could fall into the lake, as I was on a bit of a steep hill. But Ryan knew me too well and followed me.

    Ryan kept trying to touch me in any way he could, and I continued to push him away. How dare he?! How dare he try to touch me, after-- after touching that-- that girl!?
    "Get away from me!" I cried. "Just-- just go!"
    Ryan looked at me sadly. "I didn't mean to do it," he said. "I couldn't help it-- she started it--"
    I slapped him, cutting him off. "You could so, you liar. You could have pushed her away instead of pulling her close. You could have stopped at any time, walked away. But instead you brought her to your house. And just as quickly as you brought her into your life, I'm walking out of it."
    And I started walking away, head held high. I made it to my house before I had broken down. My mother, worried, called an old friend of mine; a girl, Cassandra.

    Cassandra was there for me in a matter of moments. With blunt words mixed with tact and concern, she helped me open up and I spilled all my pain for her. And with a few soft words she helped me heal.
    But then I realized-- how had she gotten here so quickly? She lived a half-hour away.
    I looked at her and asked her to turn around. She did, and I felt my heart break again, piecing together the images of her before my boyfriend and standing in front of me now.
    "So you had to steal him from me," I managed, before fleeing my house as well. I ran and ran, my best friend and my boyfriend both having betrayed me in so short a time. I cried and cried as I ran, and when the tears were gone, I wished that they had been honest to me. How long had I been tricked, betrayed?
    I started doing drugs the next day when an old friend of me called me up and invited me over; I hadn't known what would happen. I started drinking week after, drowning my sorrows and using them to trick myself into believing the only people that understood me still cared. Sometimes I like to think that they were sorry. Finally, my mother found me on the floor, having overdosed on several drugs and slit my throat. I died because they left me behind in a world that was cruel and cold.

    It may not have been the nicest fate, or the smartest. Perhaps I should have pretended to be asleep or sick when that 'friend' of mine called. Maybe I should just have avoided to going to Ryan's house unnanounced. But whatever twist of fate made my life spiral into that dreary darkness is something I would never wish upon anyone else. I just wish that they had been honest, and that Ryan had had a little more self-control-- or Cassandra. Whichever one of them started it.

    I had been happy and in love. And now, watching as Cassandra says 'I do' to the boy I'd loved for years, I wished desperately that I could turn back time.
    Although I don't know how that could ever change anything that had happened.
    But judging from the joy in their faces, I'd say they're pretty happy together. That they're not sorry about what happened to me. Well, not anymore at least. I'm not sure if they ever were, but hey, I'm dead. I'm biased. I fell for him at hello, and he fell for her before I even said goodbye.

    It's so lovely being a cliche.