CHAPTER 11: DECEIT

CHAPTER TYPE: EVENT

I remember what it was like to actually trust people. I remember what it felt like to feel comfortable in approaching someone that wasn’t your closest friend, someone other kids really liked but also someone who seemed a bit lonely for some reason. I remember what it was like not to be afraid of everyone, not to be afraid of showing people who I really, truly was. But I don’t remember the last time I've felt that way. Because every single one of those memories of attempts at building friendships out of Friendships is now forever stained with the crimson of my own blood – blood from wounds inflicted upon me by the very person who I thought really just needed a friend. And maybe they did, but they weren’t looking for a friend in me. And I wish I could tell you what the difference between them was.