My Love for Was Bulletproof but You Were the One Who Shot Me

Days went by. Then weeks. Lost posters were all around town, 'Lost: Jinxx Wood. Age 24, Ht. 5'4.' Blah blah blah. Tonight, I was going to get drunk and kill myself. But that all change when I hear Frank yelling from down the hall. Gerard yelling back. The drunken slur of Pete Wentz. I locked the door, and ran to the closes winder. Opened it up and climbed up. I would've never done this if I knew he was still alive. That damn british wanker I met back in year 11.