The Truth Hurts...

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
Best friends would do anything for each other...right?
Even die for each other?
The pain she feels is real. And one move can throw someone over the edge.
Except for the ending, this is a true story.

Submitted: December 11, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 11, 2011




Not good enough. Those three words were a repeat track in her mind since she had been little. She always felt that her looks were average, but couldn’t hold a candle to the girls she saw in magazines. Her grades? A’s the entire school life, yet she was never top of the class. Music and writing? She compared herself to the famous, the greatest. And looked down upon herself.


Her athletic, black jean wearing legs walked outside into the ankle height snow. She pondered to herself, her head throbbing. Why…why did he have to do this? Why now? She took a breath, staring down. All she saw was her blue plaid hoodie and band tee underneath, a pair of fingerless gloves encasing her tiny hands. Those hands had helped and hurt in the past……both her and others.


She could remember just four months ago, how she would have a razor to her slim wrists every time something rocked her seemingly perfect world. Crying in the dark depths of her room, the smile plastered on her face only shown to the public. Until she went online. She had met so many people with the same interests. Including him. He was the one who kept her afloat so many times, and in a way, she had looked up to him. They had been through so much. Even far away, they were able to connect in ways that she could never with others. He could make her laugh no matter how depressed she was, and when she saw he had replied, a smile crept upon her face. She loved him so much. A past crush. Her best friend.


Until she got out of the hospital. She had gotten better, stable for the first time in years. Her paradise couldn’t last forever, and she knew it. She just….this was the worst way for it to all fall down.

While she was getting better, he was slowly becoming worse. Trapped within himself, his wounds never truly closed like hers did. Friends brushed up against them, without even knowing it. His blood got upon their clothes, yet they never noticed. And he never cried out. They wouldn’t understand, he though. And truthfully, she wasn’t sure herself. She had met them once or twice, and they seemed nice. But they hurt him. And she knew it. So when he was debating to tell them, she offered to. Telling the one he trusted most, the friend agreed to help. And everything looked cheery. For the time being.


Then, it fell down again. She didn’t know exactly what happened, but she couldn’t fix it this time. There wasn’t much she could work with this time. And his soul was dying. She had positive outlets, like her band and writing. Friends and school. But this nagged her, no matter how much she would love to say it was a dream.

Snapping back to reality, a tear fell down her cheek. It seemed to freeze there, the air feeling like 50 below. A snowflake fell on her nose and she wiped the two away. She never cried in public. She couldn’t. She had too much pride for that. Not even in front of her best friends. Some things, she just couldn’t let others see.

Staring out into the empty street, her mind flashed back to the past, about two months. They were telling how much they meant to each other, and she said she would give up her soul for him and die for him. And in her heart, she knew she would. He was a spark of potential in the dark wasteland they called a world. The only problem was that it usually swallowed people alive.


Then, her mind ran to the last day or so. Sitting at her computer. She had tried to convince him that he was important. That he shouldn’t die. But he wouldn’t listen. The next day, he didn’t talk to her, or other close friends. And she worried she did something wrong. That he hated her. He was a piece of her world, and without him….she felt dead inside.


She had tried to help, she really did. Pulling out her hairbow, she rolled up her sleeve, and pressed it in. A thick trail of blood was left in its place. Her arm fell limply to her side, red rubies staining the pristine white snow. A smile was on her face. It had been forever since she had did this. The next was her neck. She slit her throat quickly, and fell to the ground. Her raven hair sprawled out on the ground, a hot mess of blood and beauty.


As she started to choke on her own blood, she knew this felt right. Living without him would be horrible. And if he died, she felt his blood would be on her hands for eternity. She didn’t save him. If only…if only he could have held on until April. When she saw him, she planned to hug him tightly, and tell him that she loved him. But, no. That couldn’t happen.

She stared at the grey sky, close to death. Her last thought that raced through her mind was, “Not good enough. I promised him my soul if he lived….and he decided to do this. I was right. I’d never been good enough.” And with that, her eyes rolled back, the whites slowly becoming red.


And the boy? Well………..I’ll leave what he thought up to you.

© Copyright 2018 MiaGraverobberLargo. All rights reserved.

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