Remembering

I hate to think, that to some people, all you are now is a paragraph in the newspaper, a casket buried in the ground.

A memory, being forgotten.

But for some, instead of forgetting, they try to use it for popularity.

'I used to know the dead girl.'
'I'm going to miss her sooooo much!'
'We were best friends.'
I hate those people who said those things.

They didn't know you like I did. They don't miss you like I do. I was your best friend, you were mine. None of them were involved.

And Ashtyn... My hate for her can be explained with two words: 'insensitive bitch,' as Baylee called her.

'I'm so sad. I just want to slit my wrists right now,' Ashtyn said, when your brothers weren't in the room.

'That's not funny,' Bay frowned.

Ashtyn stared at my bracelets, covering my arms nearly to the elbows.

It isn't something to joke about, is it?

I hate everything.