You're my one.

My one and only suicide.

Heather Chandler x Colonel Sanders written by 

Heather woke up bright and early as usual, sitting on her red, satin bedsheets. She removed the mask covering her eyes and placed it on her nightstand. As she got up from her bed, she smelt something, odd. What could this smell be?

The blonde teenager ran to her kitchen almost immediately, wondering if this could be the work of Veronica or her pet, Jason Dean. Instead of expecting someone her height, she got greeted by a man looking like...her grandfather? He was cooking some chicken in the microwave with a wicked grin plastered on his face. Heather screamed at the top of her lungs, grabbing a knife and stabbing the man. He screamed too, brutally. The man fell to the floor as soon as the microwave beeped to signal it was finished.

The blonde dropped the knife, realizing what she had just done. What would happen whenever the police found out? This starts her scheme.

Heather grabbed the notepad on the dining room table along with her feathered pen, she began writing: 

"Dear World...
Believe it or not, I knew about fear.
I knew the way loneliness had stung.
I hid behind smiles,
and crazy handsome clothes,
I learned to kiss girls with my tongue.
But the world,
it held me down.
it weighed like a concrete prom king crown.
No one thinks a pretty boy has feelings,
No one gets his insecurity,
I am more than chef uniforms and guyliner,
No one sees the me inside of me.
They couldn't see past my master chef mystique,
They wouldn't dare look in my eyes,
But just underneath,
Was a terrified boy,
who clings to her pillow and cries.
My looks were just like prison bars.
They left me a myriad of scars!
No one thinks a pretty boy has substance,
that's the curse of popularity.
I am more than just a source of boob jobs!
No one sees the me inside of me.
Box up my clothing for Goodwill,
give the poor my Nordic Track,
donate my car to poor kids,
or, to those ghetto moms on crack.
Give them my hats and my CD's,
My pumps, my flats, my three TV's.
No one thinks a pretty boy has feelings,
but I weep for all I failed to be!
Maybe I can help the world by leaving."