Kyle sat in his room on campus, tears lining his cheeks, knife in hand, looking out the window over the tennis courts on campus.

Kids of all ages were warming up for the charity tennis tournament, while others were mucking around enjoying themselves. One part of him said to go out and join in, but another told him not to. He felt sad, and dead inside. He recognised it as the same emotion he felt when his parents died.

In some ways, Kyle felt as though part of him had died. Tom was gone, as good as dead. His first true love was gone. Forever.

He placed the knife on his wrist, not sure if it was the right thing to do. More tears fell. He slowly pulled it across, applying more pressure. He lifted the knife off, watching the blood drip out of the cut. He started making more cuts, littering his arm in red lines. With each new cut, the pain inside of him was replaced with the pain from the cuts.

After he had made ten deep cuts, he staggered onto his bed, loss of blood making him dizzy. He looked at the phone on the table beside the bed. It wasn't too late to live.

Instead of grabbing the phone, he turned the other way and grabbed a tear splattered letter, setting it down beside him. His breathing quickened, as he gripped the knife, and brought it down hard across his wrist, the deepest cut of all. Kyle lay there, finally at peace.


Dear Tom

There's no way I can fully explain my feelings for you on paper. When you walked into a room, the day felt brighter, and I felt happy. I loved you Tom, and still do. You were my first, and only, true love.

Just remember all the good times we had together; cuddling on James bed, walking through the woods, going to the movies. I loved you Tom, and I thought you felt the same way about me.

Then at Mockingbird Farm, when you tried to stop me, my heart was wrenched into a million pieces. I thought we were supposed to be together. I thought you were a good person, a strong animal rights supporter, not a murderer. I know you're a good person Tom, but on the wrong side. Together we could have got out of that shit, saved Cobb, and gone to live in the Mediterranean.

Tom, I know you're not a bad person. I loved you, and still love you, now and forever. I hope you feel the same way about me.

I hope that one day, we will meet in heaven.