“Get out of my head, get out of my head,” The Boy said.
He stared at his phone, the message lighting up his screen.
He hoped someone would come bursting through his bedroom door.
He hoped something would intervene.
But as he sat alone on his bed and read the words aloud,
His heart started to pound.


The Boy glanced at the empty spot where she once sat,
The sun shined through the window and glistened on her dark hair.
She was always pale
But that fall, her skin suited her so well;
It was a light-colored tan and even in the dark,
When she laid under The Boy's covers, unclothed,
She was still radiant.


The Boy felt his hands start to shake,
As he thinks about the unchangeable mistake.

That afternoon in February, just three days after Valentines day,
She arrived outside The Boy's house.

That day, that day, was a special day for her,
And she thought it was for him, too.
A smile was worn across her face as she stood outside his place,
But he just looked at her and didn't say much.
She chewed on her lip and through the silence,
The truth was spoken.

She walked home,
And deep down inside,
She knew,
She had never felt so alone.

So the boy and the girl fell apart.

The boy went his own way,
But she- she stayed!
She waited for him to apologize,
To make it better,
Of course he wanted to,
Of course he wasn't just satisfied with this unfair end...
Of course they were more than “just friends”.
Months past and than a year and than a another.
Two full years have went by since The Boy and The Girl have talked.
The Boy knew she was doing well,
She was so smart, and very beautiful,
Sure she had found another.

He thought about her from time to time,
The way she smelled, the feel of the goosebumps
That formed on her soft skin.
He thought she was living a happy existence,
But not all stories have a perfect end,
And as he read the message he received from a friend,
It all sunk in.

He read, in bold black letter, across his pricy device:
“You remember Melissa?
From forever ago?
Tonight she ended her life.”

Her face, the way her lips curled into a grin,
Her dimple right above her chin,
And the freckle that was stamped
Below her left eye
Is now a deep shaded red stain
That soaked through his memory.

“Get out of my head, Get out of my head.” The Boy said.
He stared at his phone, the message lighting up his screen.
He hoped someone would come bursting through his bedroom door,
He hoped something would intervene
But as he sat alone on his bed and read the words aloud,
His heart started to pound.