Why did she get to live?

Why did I have to save her?

Why, why, why?

I am at the hospital room, looking down at my blood covered body. No chance to live. Nope, not one.

Around the bed that my body lies, people that I know, people that I love stand, staring and thinkng.

Lindsay storms out of the room, followed by Elody and Ally. I follow, wanting to comfort them, that I'm right here.

"It was all her fault," Lindsay spats out. "Juliet, the bitch who others bitches. Sam seemed to know something, something we didn't. That's why she went after Juliet. That's why she's dead."

"But what? What did Sammy know?" asks Elody.

"I DON'T KNOW! OKAY! I just don't know..." barks Lindsay.

Elody takes a step back, clearly surprised at Lindsay's impulse.

I take myself back to hospital room. I can't stand the fact that everyone will have to suffer all because of me. All because my sacrifice. Does Juliet even notice that she wouldn't even be alive if it wasn't for me? Does anybody notice? Will I be forgotten? A distanced memory?

That heading will never be finished: THE EIGHTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL THAT DIED

That's what I'll be right? The eighteen year old girl. But how did she die? Why did she die?

Because of me, Izzy won't be allowed to go to late night parties.

Because of me, there will only be one child in the house.

Because of me, the house will be quiet.

Because of me, Rob will carry guilt.

Because of me, Juliet gets to live.

And, what hurts the most, is because of me, Kent won't be able to have what he has always wanted: Me.

It's as though I had the biggest role in a play, and I quit.

But no matter what, I learned that I was loved, cared for, to know that I will be that one girl who saved another, without anybody else knowing.


The memories.