And this is why you should never get invovled with people. I dont mean relationships, I mean with anyone. Any type of relationship will only cause you pain, heartache.

And when I press the knife gently into my skin, I suddenly have this strange flashback. All these vivid images of Ashley and myself were pacing through my hollow mind. As each picture replays, I feel the knife is no longer needed. Cuts do not take away any pain. Cuts are weak, fragile, and only temporary. When you need to be lifted, you need something stronger.

I havent spoken to Ashley in three years.

She moved away about two years ago. Her and Kyla live somewhere near L.A., I just cant recall where at the moment. Either way, I hear its about an half and a half from here. I think she tried again with Aiden, which surprised me. However, my guess is that they broke up again, because I used to see him around school with some other chick after Ashley left.

The gun is strong. It’s small, yet hold so much power. It drives me. Hell, just by looking at it, I’m getting excited. I run my thin fingers along it and can feel it’s presence and its meaning.

See, never really wanted Ashley out of my life. Fuck, I was expecting her to come running back into my arms. I wanted her to prove herself.

And before I leave this world, I grab that photo of my old sweetheart and study it. Her features are pure. I silently wonder what she looks like now adays. Does her smile still light up the room? I bet it does. I bet all her features are similiar, just an older version or something.

She was the most beautiful girl in the world.

I wish that beautiful girl was here now, here in this cold, dark room with me. I want her to see my face, my lonely eyes and my lazy, feeble body. I want to write a suicide note so that everyone will know who did this to me, but, I’m sure everyone already has a clue.

Still, I hope that after I die, she finds out. I dont know where she is or who shes with, but I hope the news travels. And boy, I wish I could see her face when she finds out. I want to memorize her reaction, save it into my memory and replay it over and over.

Either way, I’ve done to much thinking for one night.

Like I stated earlier, the gun is small but it hold so much control. I find it simply amazing how all I have to do is pull a trigger and the life of Spencer Carlin is nonexsistant. My heart was beating out of my chest, but I knew this had to be done. I needed revenge on that tramp. You cant just fuck with someones life and get away with it.

And I close my deep blue eyes for one last time. When I open them, I see Ashley’s face. Well, not her face, just the photo of her. My hands, trembling, are violently ripping it apart, until the pieces are so small, you cannot make out who it is.

And that was the last thing I remember doing before everything went all black.