Short stories

To be...

To be hurt again. I don't want that. He died on the bridge we fell in love at. Most people believe it to be an accident. Being who he is...was... he liked to show off to me. Climbing, walking, tripping, falling... they were all done.

He was my buddy, my friend, my boyfriend. He, who was so full of life, became a victim of death. All because of me. I brought him out and I was the one to put him back in. How fragile the life is. No matter what people say, I was still the one who killed him. He suspected me of cheating.

Now, I feel empty. There is no where to hide. Why did this have to happen? I loved him. Funny, how denial can easily be overcome. My parents have begged me to come out. But it's hard. To go down the same street where he walked me. To go to the same school he went to. To the same house we cuddled and laughed at. To the same bed we...

They, whoever they are, say love is once in a lifetime. That you'll know when you found your soul mate. Aren't they suppose to be there for you, love you, and cherish you? Mines gone. Left for a better place if one exist. But I'm all alone in this world with a rope and tree. I wonder how Dylan Jones dies! He dies for Mike.

For Mike?