The End

Leaves are swirling, crackling, spinning, a mini-tornado around her. It's not too windy, but her hair is still flying every which way. Normally, she'd care, but today – as the last year has been – is not normal. Her life's always been abnormal – have you met her family? – but this last year has just taken the cake, and the table, and the room, and the house.

Not a week has gone by when she hasn't cried herself to sleep at least twice. Where she's gotten more than three hours of sleep on the nights that she actually can sleep. Where she hasn't contemplated running to a far-away country, like China or Russia. But she can't manage to get farther than France. She's tried so many times. He's still here, and she won't – can't – give him up, no matter how much it hurts.

Sure, he's older than her. Ten years older, in fact. Six – almost seven – years ago, she was half his age. But she holds love for him in her heart, and isn't that enough? After all, it isn't his or her fault that they were born when they were. They can look past that, because love makes you blind, right?

But he – of the adorable smile, effervescent personality, ever-changing hair and eyes – doesn't love her. Not like that. He's only ever thought of her as a little sister, infuriating her to no end.

Her eldest cousin – of the natural platinum-blonde hair, robin's egg blue eyes, pearly white smile, bodytodiefor – is the problem, she's deduced. Her eldest cousin and he have been friends since before she was born, so they've had much longer to get to know each other. And they are closer in age, her eldest cousin being only two years younger than him.

But none of that changes the fact that she knows that he belongs with her. The fact that every day that she doesn't see him – almost every day of the past year – makes her head pound, her heart ache, her stomach churn, her smile dim. The fact that he's like a drug to her, an addiction she's encouraged for fifteen years at least.

Right now she's standing in front of his house. It's moderately sized, not too big and not too small. Perfect for raising a small family. That's not the point, though. The point is that she's watching him from behind a tree. He's locking his front door, and he's wearing a tuxedo. She knows where he's going – to marry her eldest cousin.

She's not going to be attending, even though she was – at the last minute – invited to be a bridesmaid. Because she doesn't want her heart to break in front of everyone as the love of her life promises himself to her eldest cousin 'tildeathdothempart. She's going to take the coward's way out.

She's going to runrunrun. Even if she only makes it to France, that's better than just staying here. Better than seeing them together at least once a week, and thinking to herself that that should be her. Every day will put her in more and more pain, and she's tired of feeling like she's being stabbed in the heart with a blunt knife.

She chuckles to herself as she watches him go. It's not funny, but it is. Her life – up until now – has been a bad love story. But now she's going to write her own ending. The scorned girl leaves and finds a new life away from the heartbreak. THEEND.