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**DISCLAIMER**

It may be triggering for people with anxiety or have suicidal thoughts. Please proceed with caution.

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TLDR: I'd once read a fun fact on the web that just before you die, the last sense to go is your hearing. But we all know how we should take everything we read on the web with a pinch of salt, so I forgot about it not long later.

As begging and pleading filled my ears, I can now personally attest that this fun fact is in fact very much true.

"He's mine!" I yelled as I strode up to the pair embracing each other.

I pried the little witch's fingers off my boyfriend's shoulders, uncaring about how much strength I used to rip off her claws. She visibly flinched while holding on to her delicate fingers. Then looked up at me in fear and disbelief.

I could see the unspoken sentence screaming from her theatrics.

'How could I even think of hurting her?'

Venom spilled from my eyes while I glared at that fragile tear stained face. Her soft sobs grated on my nerves and only fuelled my boiling anger.

While I faced off with this two-faced witch, Chad stood by my side. His eyes never strayed from me, but the reason made my heart ache. I knew that he was only doing it for that sly bitch. So that he could hold me back if I really did pounce on her.

And I can't blame him for that cautiousness. The temptation itched beneath my skin, and I was very inclined to scratch just so it would go away.

But I didn't. And thus I was made into an unwilling participant of a very dedicated performance.

My eyes roved about the thing standing in front of me with trembling shoulders.

So fake. Fake tears. Fake sobs. The innocent image that everyone adores, fake.

My nose scrunched from her stench and I snarled, "don't touch him."

"He was just comforting me!" She whimpered in that soft ingratiating voice that made my skin crawl.

"If what you displayed before was the comfort you're talking about, then go find someone else to do it. I see a lot of willing participants fidgeting in their little seats."

"I was really hurt. It hurt so much that I felt like I was going to die."

"I fail to see why I should care."

"Are you saying you don't care if I die?"

Her pitiful doe eyes filled with tears once more, threatening to spill forth if I don't adhere to her script.

My eyes inadvertently glanced towards Chad, and his expression burned my eyes.

Furrowed brows, and downturned lips. Disappointment. And he was looking at me with a kind of sadness I couldn't comprehend.

Again with that look.

My eyes drifted back to the girl who seemed to live with a spotlight shining down upon her.

I watched her flutter her long and glistening eyelashes, the breeze blowing the soft curls framing that small face. Everything about her was like a doll that screamed, 'protect me!'

I hated it.

But I hated myself even more.

The image that my cruel imagination conjured up somehow became a memory I'm forced to relive in. I can't live with the knowledge that Edwin had comforted another girl so intimately. Especially a girl like that. Even more so if that girl once held the special place that I now occupy.

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