"I don't know." I murmured light-heartedly. "Can you?" 

Maggie smiled. "You bet. I know people that are scarier than the devil himself."

I stood up and tightened my belt. As I looked up again, Maggie stood in front of me, face to face. It was as though she had something else in mind - something I would have never thought of, something I never would have thought she would have done. Maggie, put simply, outright betrayed her own feelings, and sister. 

Maggie extended her arms, running her fingers through my hair until her hands reconnected behind my head. With her arms around my neck. She pulled my head closer, alllowing her lips to touch mine. I didn't want it, but I was frozen in shock and there was nothing I could do. Everything had progressed so quickly, and then it was too late. 

It was the worst possible case, at the worst possible time. 

"Liar."

That single word shattered the silence. However, it was only when Maggie turned that I realized how bad it looked to Kylie. I, not Maggie, looked like a lying pile of cringeworthy dog shit. I, not Maggie, was the one who cheated. I was a scumbag who took advantage of her and then left her on the side of the road. I'm sure that was how I looked to Kylie. 

"Kylie..." I nearly shoved Maggie out of the way. "It's not how it looks. I--"

"Right, right. You're going to tell me "it's not what it looks like," and then give me some totally made up, bullshit excuse. Isn't that how this goes?" Kylie angrily snapped back at me. "My parents were right...like father, like son."

I saw the liquid in her eyes threatening to spill over while she tried to put up a strong front. Even after seeing that, I had long snapped myself. The mention and comparison of me to my father was like breaking all of the straws at once. My clear, unmoving eyes became hazy - anger pointed at the one I thought I had loved. It was that one small sentence that changed the lives of so many people. 

With a ferocity I didn't know existed in me, I grabbed Kylie by the collar of her shirt and threw her against the wall. Put simply, I had done the one thing that I thought I never would have done to Kylie - that one thing was violence. However, that was precisely what I had done to her, and it didn't stop there. I had hurt her, both emotionally and physically. 

"Don't you ever fucking compare me to my father!" I roared. "I'm nothing near that piece of shit! Fuck you!" 

"What a joke. No, you're a fucking joke, Cyrus." Kylie averted her intense gaze. "Did you actually think that you were my first? Nope, you're not even close. I dated you out of pity, you clueless idi..."

I interrupted her. Not with my voice, not with my feelings, but with a belligerent fist. Kylie hit the ground, her hand covering the spot I had made contact with. It was then that I had awoken from my hazy, anger-induced frenzy. I could only stare, and stare, at the mess I had created. The one woman I had vowed to make happy at any cost, was now on the floor - crying with the pain I had inflicted. 

"Ky..." I trailed, unable to think as I was overcome with hatred, and an elephantine guilt that had been directed at myself. 

As soon as I began to bend over, Kylie launched herself off of the ground and bolted towards the front door. I gave chase, yelling, as I hoped she would stop. Following her out past the front lawn, that long forgotten twisting sensation returned with an absolute vengeance. I knew - I knew at that exact moment that something was going to happen - something terrible, more awful than I ever could have imagined. 

Kylie continued running, and finally met the street. She didn't stop running, nor did she even look at her surroundings - she did nothing but run, further continuing her avoidance of me. The man who hurt her, the man who cheated on her, the man who, physically and unfairly, inflicted pain on her...

...and the man who took her life. 

Just as I began to follow her into the street, a pair of arms wrapped around my chest and pulled me away. That was when the loud screeching began - a screeching that was soon met with an equally loud thud. I didn't believe my eyes, or rather, I didn't want to believe them. For the second time in a matter of minutes, I could only stare in horror, fear; breathless, as though I was kicked in the gut. I reached out mindlessly, hoping that my hand would reach her, if only barely. 

"Stop...Stop.." I murmured repetitively, pulling myself free of the grip that was holding me back as the vehicle zoomed off as fast as it could. "Stop joking, Kylie...stop."

I finally reached her after what felt like several millennia, but I was only met with a motionless form, lifeless as the Atacama Desert. Shattered and broken, I slumped over and fell to my knees. I did nothing, absolutely nothing outside of sobbing like a child. I sobbed, and sobbed, over her lifeless body. I refused to believe it, I refused all of it. 

I refused to believe that I had lost the single most important thing in my life. 

---

White. 

All I saw was white. White floors, white walls, everything was white. Had I died? A dream? Had all of it just been a terrible nightmare? Could and would I be able to see her again? That was it, I had seriously thought as though it were a mere nightmare. I had seriously thought it was all fine and dandy, that I would be able to cherish her once more. However, I was naught but fooling myself - and that all became as clear as day with a single sentence. 

"Mr and Mrs. Kelso...We did everything we could, but..." It was all a blur after that. 

All I heard was Kylie's mother breaking down and the sound of heavy footsteps heading my way. Those footsteps, thick and heavy, were indeed heading my way. I was too lost to even look up at that point. Instead of stopping, they slightly quickened. Faster, and faster, they moved forward - then silence. Slowly, with my hair practically curtaining my eyes, I lifted my head to see her father. Bloodshot and swollen, his eyes looked down on me. 

"She di--"

"I'm not deaf." I let out a drab, heartless reply. "I know I killed her."

"She's in a better place now." her father spoke softly, quietly as though he didn't want to believe that himself. "It was an accident, Aiden, you did not kill her."

I sneered, brushing my hair out of my eyes as I stood up. "You know what? You're right. You did it, you killed Kylie. It was because of you that we were hiding, it was because of you we had that fight. If you had just allowed me and Kylie to be together in the first place, none of this would have ever happened."

"Your mother agreed with me, Aiden. By that logic, doesn't the blame go towards her, as well?" he asked. 

"Damn straight, it does." I turned around and began to walk towards the exit. "Fuck all of you, you damned hypocrites."

My dear stranger, you may be wondering how one can be so cruel and heartless in the wake of a passing loved one. Quite simply, I had run away from not only myself, but from my feelings. The grief, the pain, the tears, I had run away from everything. Obviously, I was a mess. I was a complete, atrocious mess. I had lost the love of my life. 

The only way I was able to live with myself was by running away, by hiding from the thing I feared the most. This was not a choice for me; it was what I felt I had to do. 

I continued down the aisle, and brushed through the sliding door, only to be met with a young man, likely a few years older than myself. His shaven head reflected the glowing red light above us. That red light, however, gave identity to the young man. This young man was Kylie's older brother. 

"Cigarette?" he held out the pack and a lighter. 

Taking a cigarette and his lighter, I lit it. As it was my first time, the smoke came out with a natural cough. "...About Kylie, I-" 

"Don't." he replied. "Everyone deals with death differently, you know? I'm not going to force my view or feelings on you, like my dad. Shit, dude, I hate your fucking guts, but that's something completely different. Instead, for Kylie's sake, I'll ask this: How do you feel right now?"

I looked up at the black, cloud-ridden sky and listened to the sudden clap of thunder as it began to drizzle. At first, I could only snicker at the turn of events. The man who, with his friends, jumped me straight into a hospital, was now talking to me on a normal level, adult even. However, only four words came to mind. 

"I'd rather be dead."