Disclaimer: I don't own, wish I did,but alas not all wishes come true. This is the installment of several stories. How much? I don't know. So enjoy and advance apologies for the horrible grammar. . I have no beta reader.

It was the most unfortunate of friendships.

Something formed from the annoying habit of humans to form groups, to belong.

He was odd, quiet, and very reserved.

She was loud, giggly, and very expressive.

They were opposite forces waiting to crash into each other.

When he had first met her, he'd never expect her to be so… so … so loud.

Somehow a friendship was built, from his comments that would go unnoticed by everyone else but her, to her outlandish remarks. It embarrassed him to be with her but at the same time, it felt so good. He felt free.

There were things about her that kept fascinating him; it became a rather macabre obsession.

He was an observer and what he saw fascinated him. She was so free, so free with her love and so nice. It was a little eerie, and his morbid mind twisted her genuine love into something infested. He became sick.

She was falling for him, and it had to be said it wasn't his fault. She was always attracted to quiet guys. She always felt that they were overlooked, diamonds in the ruff. But he was something more to her; he was her friend, her very first friend. So she did the only thing she knew best, she doted on him.

This affection, it perturbed him, it kept him awake at night. He couldn't understand her and he couldn't see why she was so nice. He didn't like her, but he didn't want her to be with other guys either. He was always watching her and it devastated him to find out that she was equally nice to other guys.

They were so different but so very much alike, both were very stubborn, and both were slightly terrified by the other.

He made her anxious. She felt like she was constantly on her tiptoes and at any minute she could fly or fall perilously to her death. She was always out of breath when she was with him, he exhilarated her. She had finally met someone odder than her; she had in her mind - met her match.

It was a tragic thing – their friendship. Born out of a need instead of a want, it was tainted to begin with. There was not much to be said about it, except that it lived a little too long and had worn out its welcome.

They quickened its death with the growing silence and overgrown lies that they were feeding themselves.

It wouldn't be a clean death; this dying friendship would become cancerous. It would slowly invade the body and the mind. It would become infectious, sinful, and morbid.

They figured it would go away, the suffocating awkwardness, but as things that were malignant to begin with, it would proliferate and worsen until it killed one of them.

And as always, the girl would be the one to suffer, tomorrow for her would never seem as bright. For tomorrow is empty without him.

As for him, she becomes just a fading memory – nothing more. She becomes a ghost lurking in the depths of his mind. Perhaps tomorrow he will think of her, or not.

What a most unfortunate friendship.