You misspelled "kill".

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
She finally snaps. He does not care at all.

Submitted: January 20, 2015

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Submitted: January 20, 2015



I’m going to do it, you know. You can’t stop me.


Scared, he looks at the message. Do what? Has she gone full on batshit? What’s wrong? Jesus, he should’ve known better than to get involved with her, a crazy yet attractive girl, with a strong will and the all the awesomeness of a foreigner.


Was she still not over him? It had been clear that there was no future for them; after she had left they had tried to cling to their love and yet it would not hold and broke apart. The joys of young love, someone had once said at seeing them, but it really wasn’t. More like the joys of young infatuation with the strange, first experiences, first crazy ex. Or was she? He wasn’t all too sure about it. Part of him wanted her to be crazy, part of him just wanted her to be happy. Once, he had thought he could do that, but he realized no one could do that. She could not be happy, no matter what happened.


He realizes that he’s still staring at the screen in his hand. The seen notification has probably reached her by now. Do what? He thinks about replying. He types it out.




You’re supposed to know what I mean. Remember when you called me your soulmate?


Yeah, he remembers. That feels like a long time ago. He believed it, back then. He might have actually loved her. They might have actually been together. He’s not sure. What does she mean? He thinks about it. Is she going to murder someone? Kick someone’s ass? Run away from home? All three she had frequently talked about, but he had never talked her out of anything the like.


What he had, on the other hand, talked her out of more than once…


What, are you like, “thinking” like you had to “think” about me back then?


Just the old drama queen.


You’re not gonna do it. You don’t have the balls.


Daring me? I don’t back down from dares. We started with a dare. Did you know that sometimes, the brain confuses Adrenaline for Love?


Something is profoundly wrong. She had picked at him before, and just like then, she knows were to hit his soft spots and knows what he’s thinking about.


Yes. But I’m begging you. Please don’t. I want to see you again, one day.


Don’t lie to me, and don’t lie to yourself. You don’t.


He really doesn’t. At this point, he’s past it. He can’t surround himself with people like her, it tears him down.


Maybe I really don’t.


Told ya.


Go fuck yourself.


You misspelled “kill”.

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