His Identity

3

|Nick's POV|

Heartbreak's a bitch.

It tends to leave an internal scar on you. Sometimes it goes away, sometimes it doesn't. But you gotta deal with it either way.

Now, death's another bitch— a more permanent one. Losing someone you love, someone you care for deeply. It's not easy. It never is. No matter how many times people tell you that it's going to be okay, no matter how many years go by, it's still the same.

The longing, the loneliness, the emptiness— it's like a pit in your stomach, you know? A void. Knowing that this person will never ever come back again because this is real life and once you're dead, you're dead. There's no coming back from that.

Now imagine someone dying because of you, because you were careless, because you fell for someone— you trusted someone. You gave that someone your everything only to find out that they were just playing you.

Relationships. That shit's never easy. Sure, it starts off great— flirtings, smiles, kisses, dates, sex and stuff along those lines. But then it starts to become something more. Something that makes you want to spend your entire life with that person because you feel like they're the right one. So yeah, like some stupid fucker, you fall in love.

After one disagreement, one fight, they start to show their true faces and you feel nothing but regret. You realise that you've made the biggest mistake ever.

You wish that you could take it all back.

You wish that you've never met that person, that you've never gave them your everything. You feel like shit, like you've committed some crime— which wasn't really a problem in my family but still.

That was exactly how I felt and so much worse.

See, my life was pretty much perfect. But then I met her.

Erin.

The bitch.

The snake.

The motherfucker who ruined my oh so perfect life.

I was roughly seventeen and so was she. We met in school. I had a huge crush on her— you know? The first crushes.

It was pretty hard for me to stay in one school since I absolutely adored fucking up so I'd get kicked out— I mean, school sucks after all. Fight me.

However, when I was sixteen, give or take, I met her, Erin Fucking Warren.

She was the type of girl you'd think is an angel. She was pretty, I'll give her that. And really nice too, kind and shit to everyone including me. She befriended me, the new kid on the first day itself. She made me want to stay— soon enough, I found myself not wanting to purposely fuck up so I'd change school.

I wanted to stay with her, go to the same school, be in the same class— hell, study together. And we did. That was pretty much the start of our 'love' story.

Now I wish I never fucking met her.

My little sister's dead.

My parents are a mess.