Introduction

I'm done with all of these unrealistic love stories.

I'm done trying to act like I deserve to be here.

I killed that guy and now he's gone. How does one deal with the blood on their hands? Does this mean I'm a murderer?

I know I killed him, but I didn't mean too. I know he never did anything to me. He was only ever nice to me, even when I was rude to him. I just need to admit what I did. Why is that so hard to do?
Yesterday I was just like everyone else here. Reading those sappy love stories. Maybe there was more to them. What if Juliet faked her death because she wanted Romeo to die? Maybe she was trying to get rid of him for her family? What if she killed herself to cover up what she had done?

You see... You never actually know what happened unless you are in the minds of those people. I'm here to tell you everything that happens in those stories is a complete lie. I would know. Even though I don't want to admit it... I have too.

I killed Cameron Salavic.

There's nothing I can do now to change that. I would love to go back and change what happened but the reality is I can't. His blood will always be on my hands. I knew him as a lover and as my only friend. But there is something way worse to admit.

Something that is twisted for a human mind to think. Something so dark it would make anyone think I'm crazy. Something so messed up that society itself would hate me for it...

I liked it.