-Thirty Two-

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11 April 2017, Tuesday

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I was one day closer to ending my life. Tomorrow, after making sure that Diana survived past 12 April, I would do it. Because everything in this timeline ceased to make any sense or even mean anything to me anymore, and I couldn't see any future for myself, other than making sure that Diana stayed alive.

The world would go on turning after my death, just like the day after Diana died. Mum would be glad that she was ridden of a good-for-nothing son like me, Diana would be glad that I would finally stop pestering her, and my friends no longer needed me anymore. In fact, I might even get to meet Dad, which was a huge bonus. Maybe I would miss Tigress and Kitkat, just a bit. But I doubted that cats had the mental capacity to grieve for my death. They would probably just think that I got tired of with them; just like how those pet owners got tired of their outgrown kittens and puppies and surrendered them at Crestbridge shelter.

I stared at the bushes that lined the canteen walkway. The bushes were filled with chrysanthemum flowers, but no one seemed to notice, or at least take the time to admire them. Perhaps if George hadn't told me about them, I wouldn't have known about their existence either. For some weird reason, knowing that I was dying tomorrow had a calming effect. For the longest time, I'd been so fixated on changing the flow of events and preventing Diana's suicide. This was the first time since I time-travelled when I could truly take a step back and watch the world spin by. Without worrying about how much time I had left.

"Sometimes I feel like such a loser," I saw someone approaching from the corner of my eye.

It was short pixie crop paired with a petite stature. Last I remembered, I'd never seen George looking so downcast; she was always the happy-go-lucky character of our group. Our non-existent group, I reminded myself.

"That makes two of us," I sniggered.

She sighed. "We always want things that are beyond our reach, out of our league, don't we? We can dream, we can hope, but then reality hits you like a truck."

George picked a flower from the bush and beginning plucking out its petals one by one. "Well, at least you had the balls to confess to Diana. At least she knows that you exist. I didn't even dare to tell Jon that I'd been carrying a torch for him for three years now. I could only stand by at the side lines and watch him in secrecy, hoping that he would notice me one day. Isn't that pathetic?! He probably doesn't even know of my existence!" she laughed, almost unrecognisable.

I did what? Just when I thought that this timeline couldn't get any crazier. Inferring from what George had said, it seemed that Diana and Jon must have made their relationship official.

Strangely enough, none of George's anger and envy was rubbing off me. Perhaps the fact that I was going to die numbed everything and gave me an uncanny sense of tranquillity instead.

"George, trust me. Time heals all wounds. And you have lots of that."

She sniffled, trying to hold back the tears. "I hate being in love. Y'know I've been trying to tell myself to stop loving Jon, because he isn't the right guy for me and that we would never work out. I've tried so hard, really. And yet I can't stop loving him. I want to stop thinking about him and yet he's the only one who appears in my mind all the time. I hate Jon so much, for turning me into such a wreck, yet at the same time, I love him more than I can ever say."

Eventually, she gave up trying to hold it in and burst into tears. "I'm so stupid really. What made me think that Jon would have chosen me over Diana? Diana's pretty, gentle and lady-like, while I-I-I'm just... I'm just plain old George. Ugly, grumpy and bad-tempered. "

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