Paint A Picture On Me

Siete

Amber's dead. That's the only thought bubbling around my head for the whole next three days. I didn't leave my bed as I was filled with torturous nostalgia. She fucking killed herself. I should have been there for her. I should have listened to her instead of pushing her away. I should've-fuck. I should've stopped this from happening. Amber was that sweeter than honey, smoother than silk and wouldn't hurt a fly kind of friend. She accompanied me to my junior prom since I destined to go alone. She was my first kiss. My forever best friend all through junior high. Of course, life ran its course and one summer we drifted apart and I got obsessed with danger.

I became quite the accomplished criminal; nothing too intense, simple graffiti and breaking windows, but it became my hardcore passion. She always tried to pull me out of it, so I enforced the natural instinct and pushed her away.

Policing seemed like the ideal way of pushing that attraction to danger into a career. Plus, my spotless record helped me jump to the top.

My heart broke hearing the news. Eventually Mike dragged me from the depths of Hell, and I definitely needed it. Amber moved up in my mind and my grieving eventually let out. I'll never forget her, but I figured instead of moping around, I'll just put a little bit of her feist in everyday of my life. Honour her memory each and every day.

Not much had really happened since then. Mike left often and I avoided the subject of Kellin. He practically invaded my every waking thought. I even had a dream about him one day. It wasn't any hot and steamy sex-scene or something of the sorts, it was a simple messed up dream and I was grocery shopping and every other person in the store was him. There were like twenty-seven Kellins at the supermarket.

I'm still trying to sort out what exactly my feelings towards him are. I mean, he's nice and cute and sweet and all, but I don't know. He's only seventeen and I'm 22! I can't deny that he's starting to grow on me, but I would never let this get serious. If I ever slipped and let something happen between us, I don't think I would be able to shake the guilt of lying to him.

No! Vic what are you saying? Nothing would ever happen between you two, you don't like him like that. You don't like anyone like that. It's true; I haven't been with anyone since the recently passed on. I'd only been in one relationship, which was with this Amber. I loved the attention she gave me--I basked in it actually--but something never really felt quite right. It then hit it was because I didn't exactly like her, actually I didn't really like girls. Later on, I did the few one nights stands with guys I met at bars and such, but I stopped all of that and shoved every ounce of myself into my work.

It would never work, because I would never really like him. It would he temporary fun and I'd go back to my work and forget all about him. It's inevitable. Well, either that or I'll break his heart. He's too innocent to be pulled down by me.

"Hey," Mike says from my door. My eyes shoot to his and I force a smile. It didn't fool him though. He's used to me masking my emotions and can practically always tell. "What happened?" he sighs. "What's gotten you all cooked up in here?"

"Nothing, I'm fine." He doesn't buy it for a minute.

"Come on, tell Mikey why you're all frustrated," he requests, coming over to my bed and sitting at the foot of it. My mind wavered for a moment, craving to let my thoughts spill out, but I decide not to tell him that I've become infatuated with his best friend.

"It's Amber that's all," I lie.

"No it's not. Amber made you sad, you drink beer all day long when you're sad. You're conflicted. When you can't figure something out you refuse to leave a place until you get it sorted out," he explains. Damn. He knows me better than I thought. I let out a heavy sigh and he gives me a weak smile.