that was it. the only time we really talked. she'd sometimes wave or say hi in the halls, and i would too. other times she'd say a phrase, but i never noticed she was talking to me after a few heys. it really sucked. i had given up on everything really. i dyed my hair and starved myself. i still liked guitar, just didnt have any momentum to play them. so i decided, to recreate a fretboard on my arm. each fret, red. designed with dripping and dotted blood. didnt stain the carpet, or a tissue. just let it ooze out of me and stare in horror.
