It was all my fault. Really. I am such a stupid jerk. There is no way to fix what I did or change the events that had happened. If I could change the outcome... I would in a heartbeat.

Recently, I just lie in my bed, missing him. I have lied there for days now, no one can make me more or even eat. After awhile everybody stopped trying. My mom did occasionally come to me with food and drink but it would just sit there on my desk. I did not deserve to eat.

I have cried every tear I could shed. I wanted to cry more but no more tears could possibly fall. I keep playing that night over and over in my mind. It's all so vivid. I mentally yell and hiss and curse at myself. It should have been me.

Gene was gone because of me. It was not fair. It's funny how the innocent ones are the ones to suffer. I almost chuckled when I thought about how Gene would react to being called innocent.

His death had been so preventable. We had been invited to a party by a guy I flirted with occasionally, nothing serious. I dragged Gene along even though he did not want to go. I protested his stubbornness.

"Come on, Gene," I remember whining loudly, "it's our first party. We should go."

I remember his exact reply, "But I don't want to go to some jocks party."

I could have dropped it there. We could have stayed at his house. I could have shut my ungrateful little trap and just respected his response.

"You're no fun, Gene," I said in a very snarky tone. If I could, I would go back and beat myself up for having such a tone with him. "I am going without you. Maybe I'll just hang out with George. We can talk about his gorgeous muscles."

What a dick.

I remember getting ready to leave, heading out the door when Gene had suddenly changed his mind. We went to that stupid fucking party. It was full of drunk teenagers, most of which were horny dudes with a lack of females hanging around. Why did I even want to go? Why? Why? Why?

I don't know what happened to lead to this but somehow I ended up sitting on George's lap while Gene got us punch. I remember the hurt look on his face when he walked up to see George kissing my neck. I should have pushed him away. I remember trying to but I was more concerned about Gene.

"Gene, it's not what it looks like," I remember saying like a total idiot. What was it suppose to look like, dumb ass?

I got up and walked towards Gene but he just backed up. He looked hurt and betrayed.

"Stay away from me," Gene had said, sounding just as hurt as he looked as well as angry. He dropped the drinks and glared at me. I felt like his eyes were burning holes in me, if only they had. "I am SICK and tired of you flirting with other guys, you make me feel so worthless and-and... We are through, Bradley."

I did not get a chance to say any thing. He had bolted out of the house. The dumb ass teens behind me snickered and laughed at Gene. I wanted to yell at them... But I did not. I was weak. I just stood there. I stood there until I heard the screeching of tires and a car alarm outside. There were screams... and Gene's..

Finally I had the strength to move. I remember plowing through the crowd to get outside. The seen was awful. Again, I could not move. I just stood there and watched. Gene was lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood in the street a few feet from a car being driven by a drunken bastard who was leaving the part. I felt tears fall from my stunned face.

Finally, I ran towards Gene. Kneeling in his blood over him, I tried to shake him like he were sleeping. I remember how still he felt. His glasses had been knocked off and his nose was broken. One leg was bent the wrong way and his eyes looked dull. He was breathing still.

I remember sobbing over him, "Gene... Gene..."

"Bra... Brad," his voice was weak and cracked. It had sounded rough and wet as he coughed up blood. It was not fair.

I took his hand and cried. "Gene, I am so sorry."

He had not stuck around long enough to hear my apology. His family had not wanted me at the funeral. They blamed me. I did not blame them. It has been a week since then. I feel empty without him, my life has lost all meaning. Everyday I tell myself that it should have been me. It should have been me. It was all my fault. I did not deserve Gene. I did not deserve to be alive.

I want to say so much to Gene. I want to apologize to him for everything. I need to let him know that I love him more than anything.

It has been a week since Gene died... I plan on joining him.
Now that I am writing my suicide note I can only think of him. After the note is finished I will hang myself with my sheets.

I am coming Gene... I love you.