Irony. God damned, irony. He is the cause of all this! He is the cause of what has happen. He made everything happen. We all laughed at first. Oh hey, I have his haircut. Haha how funny. Oh look! I love chocolate, just like him. Haha, I'm so stubborn and violent, just like him. Did I really? Did I dye my hair blonde to match his hair? Then the true irony came. Oh look, I'm in second place, just like him. It pissed me off so much. To be so close to the top and yet not being at the top. One away! I finally saw what made him so crazy. Jess, oh Jess laughed a lot. She thought it was the funniest thing ever. Jess, my Matt, the one who could always help me when it made me go crazy. But no, that wasn't enough, that wasn't for him. For irony. He had to have more.
The biggest factor of them all. But no, irony couldn't have done it the easier way. Like a explosion or such. No, he had to break me. He had to break my friend.
I don't know why he did it. My friend that is. I don't know why he blamed me. My oldest friend. Known him since I was six years old. Ten years! Ten God damned years. It all meant nothing, or rather, everything. It was my fault! My fault, that he was ostracized. My fault that he was gay. My fault that he felt stupid. My fault that...I don't even know! It was just mine. I was the target. I was everything he hated.
It was obvious, he had snapped. Sometimes, I think that maybe, it was actually my fault. Maybe....no, I couldn't have deserved this. Not this. No matter what effect my presence has caused, this shouldn't have happened.
What happened? What a lovely question. What a lovely, curious, innocent question. Are you sure, that you are prepared for the answer? Well, what happened, was this. Yeah I hear your gasps and squeals. Burn aren't pretty are they? I can't pull it off like him. He could anything look sexy. Put him in a paper bag and he'd still look hot. Not me, not me. I had to suffer so much for this pretty little scar.
It took away everything! I was a varsity player! I was undefeated in my tennis matches this year! Then my friend comes along with a lighter and ruins it all!
Yes, a lighter. It was around six p.m. I had just gotten back after winning yet another match. Sydney had gone home. Her mom picked her up early. I was walking around the deserted school halls. A junior, third singles on the tennis team, small but considered beautiful. And that was all taken away!