Just the Beginning of Another End.

I looked into the mirror, blue circles stood out on my pale freckled skin, green dull eyes flickered quickly around. Looking over myself I couldn't help but feel sick to my stomach, I was supposed to be taking care of myself, I was supposed to be okay. I was strong damn it, but no you couldn't tell it from the looks of me. My faded red hair hung around my slender face, the colour matched my freckles exactly. A dull orange-red, it wasn't ugly, but it wasn't pretty that much I was sure of. I looked plain, I looked tired and worn out. I slept fine most nights, I didn't understand why I still looked like this. The haunted look never seemed to go away, I would catch myself blanking out and force myself to focus on things. It had been a year. One full year since he died. My best friend, the one person I could rely on, the only person that understood me so deeply it scared me, he was truly gone. He would have hated me for what I was doing to myself, but I was trying. I tried so hard, every day.

One year exactly and much hadn't changed, except for everything. I was so naive, so caught up in my own pitiful drama to realize that he was teetering over the edge. The day I found out he had killed himself, it broke me, that morning I woke up like every other morning and thought everything would be fine that day. Gods how I was wrong. The first thing I had done was check my messages, and the text I had from him pierced me so deeply. Every word was burned into my brain, was scarred so jaggedly in my I never thought that I would heal properly from it.

Now I stand here, staring at myself. I see nothing, empty and pitiful bone deep. I hurt myself to see if I still feel, I don't. I remember everything. What have I become? He wouldn't have wanted this, I know he wouldn't have. Everyone dies at some point, I know this, but he was Cash. He was everyone's shoulder, he was the strong one, and now he's gone, even a year later I don't know how to breath without him. I'm a ghost of myself, torn and tattered. I'm someone else, a stranger to my own self. I miss him so much. Every breath feels like another turn of the knife that pierced my chest when he died. I'd trade it all to have him back, I should have been there for him, I should have known something was wrong. He said it wasn't anyone's fault, he said he couldn't be strong anymore. He said..He said, oh god, I can't even think about it. Here I am, Valarie Michaels, but not really. I'm not that girl anymore. I'm just no one. With him gone, I'm nothing. I have to go to him. I have to be there with him, it kills me. Every second away from him, every minute without him by my side. I had so many chances to tell him how I felt and now there all gone. Every single one of them.

I hate the stares that I get. The pity in their eyes, the whispers that fallow as I was by. I knew they thought of me as the poor Valarie girl who's best friend had died. They didn't bother to ask if I was okay anymore, not after the first few months. Every "I'm fine" seemed to get more and more emotionless. They didn't believe me, hell I didn't believe me. I don't know what to believe anymore. I didn't know if I should fight or fly. I wanted to be with Cash so badly, but he would be so disappointed in me. I couldn't hurt him, I just couldn't. I never believed in heaven or hell, but I know Cash would find some way to tell me that he was pissed at me for doing anything to harm myself. So I just lived, day to day. I was a zombie of my former self, I'm just hoping this will help me. I had to tell someone, or something how I felt. Maybe I'll delete this later, possibly at least. I mean, no one will ever read it so who cares honestly. It's just the thoughts of the girl who's best friend had died a year ago, just the thoughts of some no-body. This is it for now, I'll see when I can write again. I don't know why i'd bother. Bye for now.