I decided on a new approach and a different style of writing. I hope you like it, I found it to be very…odd. Kind of short.

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha or any of its characters.

I have always thought that the absence of truth was the essence of lies. Just because you are with someone, and they don't tell you the truth all the time, doesn't mean they're necessarily lying, right? The root of all human nature is to protect yourself from harm, even if that means you hurt someone else. It isn't done purposely; it's just instinct, human nature.

He always told me how he would never let me down; never let me be caused any harm, especially from him. There's one thing I don't think he knew though. His words are the ones that can hurt me the most. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but...

His words are the ones that could shatter my soul.

We weren't always as close as we were at one point. We met because our teacher assigned us together with a project, and after that project we just grew closer and became best friends. I trusted him with everything; this one boy knew every detail of every fiber of my mind. I knew more than any, even his own brother knew about him. We would consol each other when we were upset and be there to pick each other up. I never thought I would ever tell someone as much as I told him.

What a mistake.

He used every ounce of information I gave him against me. He spread rumors about me around school. I wish I could think of anyone else that could've done it, but the truth is, I can't. The only person I would ever come close to trusting was him, and he knew that. He gave me disgusted glances which only could add to my suspicion. The glances that told me he rather have me dead than to look upon me with his eyes, I must've burned his eyes like the devil burns people's souls.

I wish I knew how all this happened.

The drugs block out my memories of him though. My brain doesn't want to remember him or what he did to me. I feel like I'm not even myself at this point, like these thoughts aren't even my own.

Did I love him?

Love. It's such a strong emotion, or at least it use to be perceived that way. Now, people just throw this word around to any potential mate without a second though. Love, it can cause so much inner turmoil and heartbreak that could irreversibly damage a person's soul. Love is meant to be a feeling of utter and total bliss with a significant other that you care much about and could see yourself growing old with without a care in the world.

Did he ever love me?

Of course the answer to this is just as pointless as asking why we are here on this earth. He seemed to show that he cared, but then he dated her, the girl who caused my life to be such misery. No, that's wrong to accuse her. She was innocent when it came to me and my pain, only I could harm myself and destroy my life, not her.

Well she was the one who broke his heart.

She was a very beautiful and popular girl most would say. She had the desired body, with the curves in all the right places. chocolate brown eyes and wavy black hair with a little added sheen and when she walked it was like there was a fan in her way with the way she held herself up and how he gracious hair flew behind her like it had wings of its own. Though none could see how tainted her soul was, how black her heart was. She was a vixen, a temptress, but she let boys fall at her feet like dominoes. It broke my heart when she set her sights on my best friend, and just like all the other foolish boys he fell for her.

Then she broke him.

She made his heart shatter. Just like the mirror that lays shatter all across my bathroom floor. He found her cheating on him, I tired to tell him when I saw this happen before but he said some hurtful things and stormed away. I could tell how broken he was. When he came to my door begging for my forgiveness I couldn't refuse.

Yet he left me.

He said he never wanted to see me again. Said he didn't want to be disgusted by my presence. There are three words that someone can say that could either make you feel infinite bliss, or lifelong torture. I could see the fiery pits of hell within his eyes, the same fire that could physically and mentally burn one's soul. I'm sure anyone could predict what happened next from there.

I hate you.

Those words stabbed me so deep. Made me feel like I was the villain in a bad superhero comic. I thought it would be me who would end the friendship, due to what he did to me for her, but that wasn't the case. He might as well have stabbed me to death with a sharp knife to my throat. Slowly shoved inside twisting and turning with every breath I take to make me feel the pain that I made him feel on that horrible day. Forcing me to relive what I did to him, even though I can't remember exactly what happened at the moment.

I think that's why I stopped living.

This one boy pushed all my boundaries, got me to trust, which is something I have never done before in my life. He made me finally feel at peace with my life, finally made me think that there was more to live for in this desolate wasteland we call life. When he left me…nothing could ever make me feel that way.

Not when I failed a semester of school.

Not when my uncle beat me when I was young.

Not when my mother passed out in my arms from drug abuse.

Not even my father's death.

He left me.

That crushed me.

Maybe I was in love with him. Love to me doesn't exist though. It can't materialize in my mind. Whatever I felt for this boy was something I couldn't even describe. The only way I could is by saying it feels like going home whenever I see him. Like when a sailor goes from port to port to exchange goods…but can only feel that special feeling when returning to the port that leads to their home, they can sense it approaching before it even comes. Like a bond that can't be severed.

I guess I'll never know how he felt about me. I want to believe all the hate he pushed towards me was a façade for the people around him that he called his friends. Yet in the deep recesses of my mind I knew this to be false. His hate for me runs deep. So deep within his veins. Flowing through his body like the necessary nutrients needed for someone to sustain life.

Now I remember.

I remember why this all came to fall apart. I'm actually glad I have these drugs now, cause when I remember what I did to cause this my heart feels like it's pumping poison through my veins, a deadly venom from a serpent slowly killing me. My blood slowly turns to liquid ice at this unbearable pain. It makes me scream out just like all the other times when I cried out his name in agony when i remember what happened.

I said disgusting things.

I knew damn well how he was self conscious about being different, his blood isn't like that of a normal humans, most say its tainted. I never thought that though. When my mother was being taken from me to the hospital, my body collapsed and he was there to catch me, like always. He told me it would be ok and she wouldn't be taken from me like my dad mercilessly was. I told him he didn't know what I felt.

His parents died when he was born.

I said his parents were long gone. He didn't have to see it all unfold before his very eyes like I had. I said more choice words but to even think of those words made me want to punish myself for my stupidity. His eyes hardened like steel as he clenched his fists and left me alone in the pouring rain.

I didn't mean it.

I was only scared.

Don't go.

He did.

It's all my fault. He left me in my own fault. I couldn't take it. My mom died close after.

I went crazy I guess you could say.

I knew it was him that did this to me.

That boy locked me up in this place.

Nobody else would've.

I guess he could tell I was dying inside.

They give me drugs to stop my constant screaming.

These white walls suffocate me to my very core.

He never visits.

I miss him.

It hurt more when I had to leave that place.

No more hiding from pain.

Maybe I was in love with him.

Maybe I was obsessed.

Maybe I wanted someone to take me away from this world. I'll never know now.

As I write these next couple lines, the last couple breaths of life are fading out of my body.

If anyone reads this, tell him that I'm sorry.

I love you Inuyasha.

Goodbye.

The piece of paper floated aimlessly towards the floor. The silver-haired boy fell to his knees as he identifies the body of his once best friend. He has an emotionless mask placed upon his face.

Nobody could tell if he was dying inside or if he honestly didn't care if this young woman in front of him was dead.

Nobody asked questions though.

"Goodbye Kagome."

Well that was the story. I don't know but I was in a kind of depressed mood when I wrote this. I hope you enjoyed it none the less though.

R&R