“She stops time when she moves through a room. When she leaves she’s always gone too soon and I’m counting down the minutes ‘till she’s back. She’s the love I’ve known eternally; it always feels brand new to me. I can’t separate the fiction from the fact.” She gets tears in her eyes, what kind of tears… I don’t have any idea. Sad and happy seem mixed. Why? It makes me emotional again but I manage to keep my voice in check.

“It’s just she’s got this thing about her. She’s got this thing about her: like a hymn in a cathedral hall,
watching April snowflakes fall. In her arms when we’re all alone, I get the feeling that I’ve come back home. She’s got this thing about her.” Then it hits me. The mysterious feeling she has in her eyes is realization. It must be.

“Like the magic in your favorite song. You just can’t put your finger on. She’s got this thing about her.”

The song ends and she slowly claps her hands while standing up, I do the same. She walks over to me and I gulp. What is she doing? I ask myself. Her hands find their way to my hips. She looks down and swallows. What will happen? Before I know it, she leans in and kisses me, making my head spin. It’s like I hear violins and angels. Seriously, this is like arriving in heaven. Her lips are so soft, so gentle and so sweet. This is perfection. Then, suddenly, after a few seconds, she pulls away and takes a step back, her hand goes to her forehead.

“I… I’m so sorry… I don’t… I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry…” She stutters. Heaven slips away…

I look to the floor; I feel the tears in my eyes. “Are you trying to kill me?” I whisper.

“Bette, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to kiss you. I don’t know why I did that. I am not in love with you; I can’t be in love with you. I’m sorry.” She says. 

My heart, dreams and hopes shatter. The pain is so excruciating that the only thing that comes to my mind is to run, get away. A sob escapes my mouth when I began to run out of the room. I hear her yell my name but I ignore it, I just go to the attic and cry. That’s all I do. For hours, I cry. Tina has been banging on the door, yelling everything and nothing, saying sorry but how does sorry help me?

I see a razorblade on my desk, don’t ask me how it came there, I have no idea. I stand up, tears still streaming down my face. I take it between my fingers and sit down on my bed. I look at it and sigh. Would I do it? Oh, what the hell, I’ve got nothing to live for and for some people it helps, right? And what is the harm? It’ll heal and if it doesn’t, it’ll always remind me of my bleeding heart. I put the sharp point on my skin. I am a little nervous but it distracts me from my emotional pain. I clench my jaw and push. The pain stings more than I thought and I just let go of it. It falls on the floor, a little blood on the metal. A drop of my blood falls on the floor. I only have a little cut but it bleeds a lot. Why the hell did I do that? It doesn’t help a thing. I take a paper towel and dab the wound. People who invented cutting are wrong because this shit does nothing.

“Bette, come on, just open the door. Please!” She pleads; I hear there is desperation in her voice.

“Just go the fuck away! Leave me alone!” I scream back, anger and pain coating my words. I lay down on my bed and sigh which results in more tears rolling down my cheeks. I just want this pain to go away. Please, someone, take this unbearable pain away. I curl up in a fetal position, tring to find some comfort in that but that doesn’t work. I can’t even call my best friend to talk about this, I have no one to go to. This misery just doesn’t seem to end. I would do anything to let this pain go away… Anything… Then, I ask myself:

How would it be to die?

  To Be Continued…

              Please, keep breathing everyone. :) I’m just a drama queen… But, will Bette die or not? *evil grin*