Part One

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This was all my fault.

Why couldn't I see how unhappy she truly was.

I showed her as much love as I could.

I knew from the second we started dating she was fragile.

Why did this have to happen.

Damn you, school.

You did this.

You pride yourself on being one of the best schools in New York, but you're not.

You didn't even care when I told you.

You brushed it off.

People had to find out by gossip.

I hate that word with a passion.

That word's the reason she's not here anymore.

She was on top of this school, you know.

She was always the lead whether it be the play or the musical.

She always had a solo at choir concerts.

She may have looked happy then but you didn't bother to meet the person under the mask.

Under that layer of happiness was a broken girl.

A girl with slits on her wrist.

A girl who could get her stomach pumped and not feel anything.

A girl who smoked weed, cigarettes, and vape not to be cool, but to die quicker.

Nobody saw that.

I did.

I did and tried to stop it.

I tried so hard.

And I failed.

I failed her.

I failed myself.

I've failed at multiple different things, but nothing's hurt me quite as much as this has.

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