This is not all that depressing but whatever.
She always sat in a corner. The darkest one in whole school, was where she stuck her nose in a book and pumped up the volume through her headphones to the maximum. Her dark blue eyes swam with the emotion of sadness while her smile always fooled everyone who passed her by, ignoring her, laughing at her. She was a joke to the whole school.
But I wasn't blind. I saw her pain, her fake laughs and smiles that she tried so hard to hide. Everyday my heart longed to reach out to her, make her happy, cradle her in my arms, to stop her tears from falling no more.
She always wore long sleeves to cover up the cuts on her arms and her pants had the sole purpose of hiding her bruises. My dreams were filled with her face and the guilt tortured me from the inside eating at my heart slowly.
I sat in the library pretending to read a book, but I really was watching her. For three years I had never been able to build enough courage to talk to her and three years ago was when my life was destroyed but hers was ruined.
I decided a week ago that I would finally go talk to her and apologize. She probably still hated me but it was worth a shot.
I waited until the library was only filled with the librarian, her, and me. Setting down my book I inhaled and exhaled slowly then tried one more time to gather up courage.
I can do this, I told myself. I walked over to her corner and stood in front of her blocking her view of anything behind me. With a determined face I said softly, "I need to talk to you."
She tilted her head upwards with a burning anger in her eyes. "I hate you," her voice was quiet but there was such hatred laced in her voice that I was taken aback.
But I can't blame her, I was the one who ruined her life. More than once.
