That night I cried myself to sleep, I ignored all the calls and texts from them, especially him.

I'm not ready...I wasn't ready...all of it. It was all happening so fast...too fast.

I also ignored the calls, insults and yells from my sister. My grandparents knew the reason why I was gone, but for my sister, she didn't. She didn't know why I was gone, nor did she care. She didn't care, all she said to me was, "You better not leave again, mother died because of you."

My grandparents comforted me after, supporting me in every way possible as they could. Financially speaking, they gave me money every month. They told me, "It wasn't your fault."

I didn't know how to feel, the person who made me feel different took a step ahead. Instead of waiting a step behind for me. In life, there are baby steps and actual steps. He was taking actual steps and I was left like crawling.

☠

I made my way to my next class. Noticing the same dark-blue hair I was living with. My heart clenched, as I saw his eyes avert to mine. I shut my eyes and snapped my head away, Don't look at him, (First Name)...

I felt his great presence near me, coming close. I sprinted forward before he could reach me, through the crowded and noisy hallway.

I left him staring at me. Watching my fading figure run away, passing him as if we were strangers. Like I never even talked or met him before.

I ran into the girl's bathroom, quickly hiding in the farthest stall from the door. I dropped my things and leaned my forehead against the wall. Holding in my cries and wails.

I took a deep breath, knowing that I was going to cry.

As tears rolled down my cheeks I shut my eyes, I brought my hands up in a fist and started hitting the wall, I muttered words of confusion and pure sadness and repeated one word.

Why...

Why...?

Why?!

Why am I such an idiot?!

Why am I even alive?

What is the point of life if you're going to die anyways...

But, I remembered the words my mother told me.

"The point of life is to experience things, darling. To feel what it feels like to be loved by someone who cares deeply about you. There are ways to show it, like hugging," I remember she hugged me after saying that, "like cuddling," she hugged me even tighter, nuzzling her head against me, "like tickling!" She tickled my stomach. "There's also kissing," she kissed my forehead. "And most important of all," she paused and gave me a smile. "it's the little things people do out of their way just to make you happy. They make you feel happy inside." She touched my chest, over my heart. "Just to make you feel special because you are."

I stopped hitting the wall, taking my head off of it. I opened my eyes and gulped down the lump in my throat. My throat was a bit sore, from the wails I've been vocalizing.

I came out of the stall and walked over to the sink. I took in a deep breath and stared at myself in the mirror; slight pinkish-reddish eyes, a red nose, my hair a mess. I washed my hands and my face, taking a paper towel I wiped my hands, taking a new one and dried my face.

I stepped out of the bathroom and stared down the barren hallway.

Everybody must be in their classes...which means I'm late.

I went to the door of my classroom and took another deep breath, calming down my speeded breathing.

Head held high, it's the past, (First Name).

Forget it.