The Gun Goes Off. I

Looking At Her Is Like Waking Up.

I Reach Out And Take His Hand. His Fingers Slide Between Mine. I Can't Breathe.

Blood Is A Strange Color. It's Darker Than You Expect It To Be.

Don't Pretend", I Say Breathily. "you Know I'm Not. I'm Not Ugly, But I Am Certainly Not Pretty." "fine. You're Not Pretty. So?" He Kisses My Cheek. "i Like How You Look. You're Deadly Smart. You're Brave.

I Do Trust You, Is What I Want To Say. But It Isn't True -- I Didn't Trust Him To Love Me Despite The Terrible Things I Had Done. I Don't Trust Anyone To Do That, But That Isn't His Problem; It's Mine.