Hey buddies! This is my second fanfic, and I know both of them end up having huge masses of death in them all caused by one person (cause this one does too, believe me), but I can't help it, I'm an angry teenager. I haven't exactly been too eager to work on my other story "The Assassination of Beyblade" because I think it sucks out loud so I'm revising it and then maybe I'll add a new chapter. So please, please, please review! And enjoy this pathetic little story, if you can.
Disclaimer: In no way do I own Beyblade, if I did I'd be partying it up with some good-looking guys who looked like all the hotties from Beyblade (I know I'm boy crazy, leave me alone).
We were best friends. So how come you hate me now? How come whenever you see me now, you give me a look of pure disgust, when you used to smile at me. I know what I did was wrong and hurt you, but I did it for you, for us. I just wanted us to be together forever.
This is partly your fault too; you drove me to insanity by not seeing what was right in front of you. If you hadn't of dated all those guys, kissed them on the couch while I was in the same room. The way you held them and caressed them like the way I wanted you to hold and caress me.
What can I say, I was jealous. I desperately wanted you, so badly. Then you wanted all these other guys, and being the incredibly good-looking person that you are, got them. So I did whatever it took for you to be mine. Honestly, it was because I loved you, and still do. I just wanted you to be happy, but I wanted you to be happy with me.
I would take it all back if I could. I would let you be with those guys, just so you would talk to me again, just so we could still be friends.
I don't think I can live without you. Everything seems pointless and stupid. I can't kill myself, though. I can't leave without talking to you one last time, seeing your eyes peer into my very core.
Now I sit here, in my jail cell. I'm all alone, without you or anyone else, just alone. I'd take it all back if I could, every single thing. I'm awaiting my trial. I'm not going to plead guilty. I'm not going to plead insanity either. I'm going to fight my way out of this hellhole, until I get back to you, my love. If found guilty, I might be put on death row, but at least I'll see your face in the courtroom. I know you'll cry, after all, I was your best friend and I lied to you, betrayed you, and did unspeakable things to people you cared about.
All this occurred throughout almost our entire high school experience. One more year and then we're out, well at least you are. I might be cooped up until the day I die. My lawyer says that I don't really have a good defense for this, there's a lot of evidence pointing at me, though I don't plan to admit to these heinous crimes.
Tomorrow, a jury decides my fate, will I get to stay with you, or will I suffer in a nine by eight feet box of despair.