Falling To Pieces

There are a few things you need to know before you read this.

The first one and far more important than any of the others is that you never fully know a person. You can live with someone for an odd amount of years and they can still be living a secret life on the side, hiding a huge amount of secrets, or having a different identity.

The second is that nothing is ever what it appears to be. No matter what, there is always more than what you know.

The third is you can never fully trust someone. No matter who it is or for how long you know them, they will always have something to hide.

Now onto the telling of the events that led me to stand in front of two headstones. One is my best friend, well my only friend ever really Hailey Conrad, and the other of the love of my life. Her older brother Gavin Conrad.

I wish I could say that this story is all lovey and fairytale-esque, unfortunately, it's not. Those don't happen in real life. In reality, you are afraid, and when you finally find someone who you think will be there for you, life takes everything from you, leaving you on the cold hard ground wondering how the hell it all happened.

See, life for me has never been easy. My father died in the war in Afghanistan, and my mother was never the same again. More like a shell.

I was only eight when it happened but I remember how the two men dressed in Marine blues showed up at the house carrying a flag and his dog tags.

My mother fell apart right before my eyes and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Following his death, everything changed.

I was no longer allowed to go to sleepovers, everyone looked at me with sympathy, and spoke to me like I was slow.

I would overhear the teachers talking about me, but smile as I passed them in the halls.

That was what my life was for the next three years until my mother moved us out of state, cross country actually, from San Diego, California to Pennsylvania.

We then lived with my aunt, her younger sister, for a few short months before moving out to a house of our own.

I was, of course, a preteen by that time, and starting a new school. That's where I met Hailey.

Meeting her for the first time was like a runaway freight train mixed with a supernova, you know? It was a chaotic and life-changing experience.

It happened when a boy from our class began making fun of me for wearing glasses and how my hair was styled that day. If you wear braids, don't, mine was yanked so hard I flew off my seat.

Anyway, back to the story, that day Trevor decided he would yank it so hard that I flew off the plastic chair, and tried to keep my glasses like some sort of prize.

As I lay there on the ground, with my temple bleeding from where I hit the ground, and my scalp burning, I heard a brawl happening from somewhere above me.

When I opened my eyes, Hailey was standing protectively in front of me, and her brother Gavin was being held back by his friends.

As soon as Trevor ran, they let him go, and Gavin came to help me to my feet.

He was adamant about driving me home, and Hailey would take no for an answer, so I let them.

They walked me to the door and explained what happened, and my mother, while she was pissed that this happened she was glad they brought me home. It was there we discovered that they lived down the street.

After they offered to take me to and from school, my mother, being so thankful, actually allowed it.

Hailey and I became close friends soon after that.

All through the rest of middle school, and high school, we were like two peas in a pod.

Even getting an apartment that we shared, with the help of Hailey's parents.

Both of us made it into Penn State U.

It was great.

I got to explore the world of academia. And Hailey? Well, she chose to party… and that's the situation that wound us to where we are at this very moment.

Me standing in front of her grave, and Gavin's grave.

Of course, other things happened but that was poor choices and planning on my part. Still, I'm not going to lie and say it was all my fault because I don't control the idiocy that others have inside them.

That's all on them.

I don't delude myself to think that I am perfect, in fact, I'm quite the opposite. If anything these six months have shown is that mistakes can be made by trusting the wrong person.

Unfortunate, really it is, but it happens. It's a part of life.

Still, I could help but blame myself for some of the things that went down. Or how they went down.

As my mind went back to that first a few months ago, all I could think was, 'Why didn't I see it before?' Or 'why didn't I just go with her that night?' But all this regret is for naught, see you can't change the past, even if you're dying too. It's simply not possible.