he should have said

the birth of a shadow

fighting and your only option is death, but you cant give up, not yet.

Maybe this time really will be different... nope. The golden girl is too fly in her own fantasies of boy toy perfection and too deep in her self wallowing of her past boyfriends. Albeit her past relationship did end ugly (I said it would from the start, but noooo when am I right!!!). you don't get why she cant see you for who you are. She can only see you for the social status you hold, your looks. Why cant she see you aren't like the other boys she's dated, you aren't going to break her heart the way they did. She knows what its like to have her heart broken. Seems quite ironic she was to crush yours into the ground. three words to the question you have wanted to know since the day you met her at the swimming carnival of her first year. Is what you feel towards me just friends, or..." she doesn't even let you finish your sentence. "I think so..." then immediately goes on to talk about her dead dog. You honestly don't know what to do. The way you see it, you've got two options, persist and eventually get pushed away and hated, or push her away and hate yourself... maybe theres a way to do both. Persist by letting go. That night, your cousins wedding, on your farm, her wearing your gold jacket. You wanted this night to be the first night in forever. It so very nearly was the first night in forever. Forever night. You have to excuse yourself from the party, your are walking through the organge orchards, a labyrinth of darkness. Not a single star could pierce the shadow. Both the literal and the fog in your mind. Then the blade comes into play, the thing predestined to end your life. Be it now or 50 years from that point, (I may need to explain that...)

as if fate is pushing you forward, you see a single light glint off the blade. Then something you have never felt, fear. You don't want to die, you don't want to give the golden bitch the satisfaction.

Even to this day, she is completely oblivious to how close she had come to being the sole reason for a corpse on the day of what should have been the best one of your life.

Its funny, the next morning, she was there, all happy and jolly, forcing your to do the same. All the while, the weight of that blade in your pocket, mocking, begging for the taste of blood, yours or hers, you will never know.

you must have done alright hiding your pain, that mask becomes your real one, so good was that mask, that everyone came to see this as the norm, and the murderous shadow underneath just some façade to get out emotion. No one could see that shadow for what it was, the true face of what was left of you.