When you kill your soul mate you don’t ever really recover.

A year of trying to forget or rather move past it has taught me that you can't. It’s an impossibility to move on from that kind of horrific form of betrayal. If you’re too selfish or scared for suicide, like me, you learn to wake up every morning and follow routine. One foot in front of the other, day after day.

Hollow. Lifeless. Haunted. Loving him was like the sun on a summer day. Living without him is like slowly burning to death. Torture.

My story started out cliche, good girl falls for bad boy, but one wrong move changed all that. Turns out the good girl doesn't save the bad boy. My story goes from cliché to risqué to mind blowing. My story is different from all the others because the events of my story led me to one thing...my objective.