The day drags on and on. The people in the halls walk about as fast as sloths.
My friends wait for me at the small smoke spot in the woods. I ditched them to sit by the tracks instead. I had to be alone. The wind from a train passing by blows my hair in my face. The smell of the autumn air fills my lungs; it is so crisp and fresh. The leaves blow across the metal as if they are running from something. I close my eyes and all I see and feel is him. His warm smile, his inviting laugh, that little chuckle he has when you try to be serious with him. He might not have been perfect, but he was all that I needed. He knew when I was sad, happy, angry, or even numb. He knew when I had no emotions at all. All I want anymore is to feel his arms wrapped around me, keeping my tears back. I feel a hand on my right shoulder and I open my eyes. But there is no one there, only me and my thoughts. He’s gone.
    Its been four months since I last smelled the cologne on his collar when we embraced in a hug. Four months; more like an eternity. He was my best friend, the Bonnie to my Clyde. If it hadn't of ended the way it did, I would have just put him in my prayers at night. But no; he just HAD to kiss me, to love me, to put me first before anything else. Forcing me to think about him day and night. Grayson was the man of my dreams; and my nightmares.
    By some freak chance we met; I put up an ad to sell my laptop and just guess who responded? Correct, Grayson. We exchanged contact information and we started writing one another. We finally met late 2 Aprils ago. He was, for lack of a better word, amazing. We talked for hours on end, there was never an awkward pause in the conversation. Even after we left each other's presence we kept close in contact. Not even five hours would go by without a response from him. We made each other happy, thats why I loved him. Not for money or looks; but the wealth he had in his heart. We started having a summer fling. Little did I know this would be the downfall of us both.
    I met his friends, and that was it he was mine and I was his although we never truly spoke about it. We went on our first date in June, nothing special just dinner, what was truly special was what happened afterwards. He took me for a walk in the cemetery, the stars lit up the sky like the sparkle lit his eye.  He took me to a stone, it looked dirty, like it had been there for a while. It stated “ Angela Farcen 1961-2001”. I looked into his eyes “ Who was she to you?”
“She was; she is my mother.” He said solemnly
“How did she; I mean she was so young what happened?” I questioned
“My dad- he - he killed her”
I could see the tears forming in his eyes. I had never seen him cry before.
I didn’t say anything; I just, held him as we fell to our knees and we just laid there, in the damp grass until sunrise, and talked.
It was a murder suicide he told me. He was only 12-years-old, I couldn’t believe it. He was so young and he saw it all.
That was it I was lovestruck, he trusted me so much to tell me this secret it had to be love right? Wrong.
That all doesn't matter now; its been 4 months since I've last seen him and an eternity more till I will again. Im in heaven , while he's in hell. I guess this is a sick , twisted version of Romeo and Juliet. That is if Romeo killed Juliet.
Im dead.
Murdered.
Killed by the one person I have Ever loved and trusted. It was not a crime of passion; at least it didn't feel like it. The last time  I saw him he looked at me with black eyes that were no longer filled with love and understanding. As he held the gun at me , point blank range , he no longer loved me, he was filled with rage and anger , as if I've actually done something to him.
Hes probably okay in hell, the pain never bothered him. He used to grin while burning cigarette on his skin. Why he did it , I don't know , neither do I think I ever will. I dont think I want to know either, I'm ok with what happened. I loved him , and at least I was the reason he got to feel human once.