The rain was coming down in sheets now and even through the waves of anger and disappointment, I couldn't stop myself from praying she got home safely. I wanted to be able to wish she never made it home; it would have been so much easier for me if I didn't need to see her on Monday. I wanted to be able to say, she died and I'm set free, but even if she did die in some kind of awful accident or if I killed her with my bare hands, I knew that wouldn't be my liberation. It would only martyrize her and she'd remain in my brain, etched in my vision forever. So I prayed she'd make it home safe. I prayed she had lied to me and that she hadn't done what she did. I prayed that come Monday, I could say it didn't bother me anymore. I prayed that I could hate her.
But the truth was, even if she'd taken a knife to my throat and laughed while I bled on her shoes, I wouldn't be able to.
Song: Impossible by James Arthur
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The Anatomy of a Broken Heart //Completed//
Teen FictionHe stood for everything she was against and he wouldn't be caught dead befriending someone like her, but when the worst happens and they find themselves in a similar situation, only then will they realize they need each other to discover the anatomy...