I paced along the pavement, arms wrapped around my slim frame to kep me warm. The wind blew the rain in my face, and all I wanted was to get home quickly and get out of the cold. It was awful out here.

It didn't help that my heart was broken. How could he? I thought to myself. I couldn't even imagine why he would. Was I really that unbearable, that he had to be with someone else behind my back? I wanted to hide away in a little cave, disappear into the depths of the world and never come out. That would be better, right? Especially if I'm that bad. It's not like the world would miss me.

I felt the tears begin to roll down my face as I remembered our encounter just ten minuts ago in the middle of town. The clouds were crowding the already dark sky, and I looked him straight in the eyes, expecting some sort of greeting, some sort of welcome. I didn't get that. I didn't get anything. I came away with nothing but a pointless memory that I wanted to burn out of my brain with a laser. Could you do that? I wouldn't know. I wasn't scientific and intelligent like that. He was. He knew everything. He was perfect. He was always good to me-or so I thought. He took me out, explained things to me when my courses just got to perplexing for mind to cope with. I was only eighteen, yet I felt three times that age. I'd seen too much too young.

How did I always end up in the wrong situations? How did I manage to fall in love with someone who didn't love me back? It was just like with my parents, but they made an even bigger mistake. They had me, and neither of them meant to. Living a life knowing that you weren't wanted. That's a really great way to send you to sleep at night.

And then there was a call from across the road. I froze, and the rain felt heavier on my shoulders, weighing me down. My hair was plastered to my face. I turned slowly to see him standing at the end of the road, calling my name. Telling me he didn't mean it and he was sorry. Sorry. As if such a word would make me forgive him. I turned back and sprinted down the alleyways, winding down the roads and tripping over my own feet, just to get away from him. He didn't know what he'd done. He didn't know. How could he be so oblivious?

I had no idea where I was going. I didn't know where I was anymore, but all that mattered was that I was away. I couldn't hear him anymore. The tears came faster now, and my eyes blurred. My foot caught on something in the middle of the road and I felt on my face. Puddles splashed in my face where my hands fell in them and and I curled into a ball on the muddy floor, crying silently and clutching my head.

"Make it go away," I moaned. "Make it go away! Please! Stop it!" My heart thumped, my head pounded and I was out of control. I couldn't breathe. My hands found my wrist and dug in. I felt nothing. Nothing was there. Not even a recognition of anything. I didn't feel my nails cut the skin. I didn't feel the crimson blood start to dribble out of the wounds. It didn't help at all.

And then there was a footstep.

I looked up and imagined what they would see. A tearstreaked, mud splattered teenager lying curled up in the middle of an alleyway. They wouldn't pay attention to me. But a hand came out towards me. I stared at it, and the person gave me a friendly smile. He was older than me, with dazzling blue eyes and messy brown hair. I took his hand and he helped pull me up. Then he brushed my back down, put his coat over my shoulders.

"I'll take you home," he told me softly and I sighed, glancing at my wrists and covering them. He looked down and noticed but said nothing. I took a shaky breath and let him lead me away.

"Thank you," I murmured.

I was going to be okay.