• There he is. The man of my dreams, walking out of his house straight past me like I don’t even exist. What is it? What is wrong with me? Why can’t he spare a glance for me? Is he that shallow? Does he not think it could maybe work out with us if we give it a go? As usual, I wouldn’t know I have never even talked to him before.
    I walk fast down the road trying to catch up with him. I can’t go too far so I stop at the park and think for a while. I think of my parents who were murdered by some drunky. I was there too but I wasn’t shot. The last thing I remember is a bright light and then I was at the hospital, the doctors always said I was lucky to be alive.
    Why is that lucky though? The boy I am deeply in love with can’t even look at me. My parents are dead and my caregiver can’t even give me a decent bed to sleep in. Why me? Must I ask? What is the point, I’m not going to get an answer. Who would answer me? No one even listens to me.
    I decide to walk back to my house; I lie down on the soft grass. Then I see him again but as usual, he walks into his house not even looking at me. What’s wrong with me am I ugly? Do I somehow disgust him? I go for another walk and as I turn the corner, I see the man that killed my parents.
    He noticed me straight away as if he was looking for me I turn around as if I haven’t noticed him and walk faster back home. I hear heavy breathing behind me and I know it’s him I begin to run I can see my house in the distance. I get closer and closer but so does he. I hear the sound of a gun and everything goes dark.
    When I become conscious, I am in no pain and realized I must have just fallen over. I walk back home and sit on the steps and then I see the boy next door, the man of my dreams. Instead of taking his normal route to school, he comes over and sits down beside me on the steps. My heart skips a beat and begins racing faster and faster. The boy begins to talk, he says his name is Marco but then begins to cry. He is talking in between sobs and tears, and I just cannot understand him. Then he says the most shocking thing, the worst thing I would ever want to hear, especially from him.
    The words just slithered from his mouth, and straight into my ears I wish that I could have pushed them out and told him that things had changed, but it was too late. Nothing would ever change. Was it him or was it me. Why did it have to be this way? I wanted to shout and scream even whisper in his ear that I loved him. Now it’s too late. I wish I could change the past.
    His exact words were “You were the girl of my dreams, yet you would never even look at me. What was it? What was wrong with me? Was it that I was ugly, or did I somehow disgust you? Do you not think it could maybe work out with us if we give it a go? As usual, I wouldn’t even know I have never even talked to you before. Why can’t you spare a glance for me? When I see you my heart races faster and faster, I wish you felt the same way. Why was I too cowardly to talk to you? I was afraid not to ask but of the answer, you would give me. I wish I had asked even just to know how you felt. Now it’s too late. I wish I could change the past.”
    Then he cried “WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DIE”
    That was it, just like that, one sentence and my life was over. That gun had shot me and now it’s finished. My heart stops dead and I visit the bright light once again.