He 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...
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.
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