Disclaimer: I own nothing

I kept staring at it, willing myself to get it over and done with, but I couldn't. All I could do was think, and maybe that was the problem. I kept thinking about maybe if I did this, if God actually existed, I'd go to Hell for not believing. Or perhaps when my soul or whatever it was that made me me, left, I'd just drift along in the emptiness that is the after world. Maybe I'd be a Ghost?

Every time I finally worked up the nerve to do it, I just couldn't. And all because I kept thinking. Try as I might, I guess I would never be able to stop thinking.

All I wanted to do was make the people I cared for happy and safe. With me gone, that was pretty much guaranteed. They wouldn't have to worry about me constantly, or always be on the lookout for some circle members. The bottom line was, they'd be safe. And that's all I cared about. All I thought about. All I saw. All I could feel.

The wind blew in from the open window, carrying it with the smell of freedom, the dance across my skin saying they'll be safe.

I couldn't run away. Couldn't let them spend the rest of their lives wondering where I was or if I was even alive - like how I had with my dad - or else when they knew, it would hurt all the more. If I killed myself, then there would be closure. I could deal with that. More importantly, it would be better for them.

With my mind set, I raised the razor to my hand, dug it into my skin until a drop of blood began to bubble.

I stopped and stared.

Sometimes I wondered about the frailty of life. How thin my skin actually was. It was amazing. All those things I've been taught here at Gallagher and out - despite all that - I was still fragile. And that was what made me dangerous. I was weak no matter how much I tried to be strong.

Suddenly, familiar arms gently took the razor from my hand, set it aside and placed a bandage over where a meandering stream of vermillion was slowly, but steadily coming out. Those familiar hands worked efficiently at removing all other sharp and pointy objects. All I could do was stare at those hands - toughened with callouses, and tough and thick, unlike my own, despite their own hardened sections of skin. I was still weak.

I could kill I man twice my size, I could put together and shoot a target with a gun with frightening clarity, but I knew that despite all that, I couldn't keep everyone safe. And that was what killed me.

Finally, my brain seemed to snap out of its sudden numbness to realize that I knew who that person was - the person that was currently beside me, tentatively reaching for my hand, as if to say Is this okay?

It was, but at the same time, it wasn't. This gesture would make it all the more difficult to go through with what I had in mind.

Zach wasn't suppose to be here. He was suppose to be on a Cove Ops trip with the rest of the seniors. I hadn't planned on him being here - on anyone being here- on them coming back early.

"Cammie," he said. Something in his voice willing me - pleading - to look him in the eye. To tell him I was alright. But I couldn't lift my head. Not like this. So I stayed staring at the floor, where a drop of blood had stained the carpet.

He gently placed a finger under my chin and slowly raise my head. I didn't resist, but I didn't comply either. It was like the nerves running through my muscles had completely shut off from my brain.

Seeing those eyes. Those endless depths made me wonder if I wanted to die. To give up this boy. The thought of losing him made me shiver, and he placed his other arm around my shoulders.

But that was it. By simply living, I could lose this boy anyway. If I died, then he'd live. It was as simple as that.

So I jerked my head away, driving away those thoughts - any thoughts of living.

"Stop," I said quietly. "Just please. Stop. I need to do this." I gave him a strained half smile.

He stared at me intently, as though judging whether I had completely lost it.

Maybe I had.

"You don't have to do this Cammie."

I continued to stare at that spot on the floor. The red sharply contrasting the white of the carpet. Imagining that drop of red, a pool of blood. The blood of everyone I cared for dying to protect me. That was what made me lose it.

"Zach, you can't stop me. Everyone here..." I trailed off. "They're worth it."

Again, he stared at me. "You're worth it too." I closed my eyes. "You just don't think you are. But I do. I absolutely do."

No I'm not I told myself.

"You are Cammie. I know you are." He raised my chin again and pressed his lips against mine.

He pulled away. "We can make it through anything. Your family, your friends...Us." He gave me a small, tentative grin. "No matter what. We'll do anything and everything. Do you know why?"

I looked at his eyes. So beautiful through that curtain of dark hair.

"Because you're worth it."

A/N Hey so uhhh sorry? I haven't updated any of my stories in a while, and I don't really have an excuse for that besides homework and just being lazy...Well I mean, I'm giving up 4 tests and a project all due next week for this! That's something, right? (:

But lately, I read the Darkest Powers trilogy,and well, there was a line in The Reckoning that sorta sparked this idea.

Hmmm, about half an hour for this? I think I did pretty good (: