"No!" I yelled at the wall as tears were flooding down my face. My life was tearing apart, and I had no one to turn to. Just a few hours ago, I almost died. Fitz could have stabbed me. And Clare, the girl I cared for the most, was there to watch. What a horrible guy I was. Making her watch like that. I shouldn't have gone to the stupid Night in Vegas dance. I didn't even like dances. I only went for two reasons: Clare, and to get back at Fitz. I wanted to scare him off, show him whose boss. But what I got instead was he scaring the living shit out of me. That moment was going to change me, forever.

I could remember every moment of it, clearly.

I went looking for Clare, though she was no where to be found. I couldn't find her, and after a while, I decided to give up. I leaned against the lockers and took out my iPod and put on a song by one of my favorite bands. The volume was so high it hurt my ears, but that was okay. It kept out the outside world. All I had was me, myself and I right now.

Soon, Clare was in front of me. I almost didn't notice her until she took out my headphones.

"Come with me, Fitz has a knife," he worried voice said. She looked so frightened, and maybe I was too. But I was never going to show it. I needed to scare Fitz, not let him think I was the scared one.

I just stared at her.

"This is where we run, let's go!" she said, tugging my hands just a bit.

"I'm not going to let that jerk scare me," I told her.

"Eli, he has a knife!"

"Aw, don't you two look cute?" Fitz called, interrupting our conversation. He was holding a knife in his right hand. He looked like a killer. But that's what he was.

"You should go," Clare said.

"And let pretty boy make time with my date?" I hated how he said that. I hated knowing Clare was his date, not mine.

"Please, Fitz. Don't do this," the girl standing next to me pleaded.

"Shut up, bitch!" Fitz yelled.

"Get away from me." I pushed her away. She looked like she was going to start crying. The last thing I wanted was for her to get hurt, too. If anyone was going to die tonight, it was going to be me. I didn't like the sound of that, but it's better if I die rather than Clare dying.

I looked at Fitz. "Look, I'm sorry about before, about everything. You win."

"I've heard that before." He pushed me back.

"I'm serious," I told him.

"So am I," he was still pushing me. "You've had this coming for a while." He looked at me for a few seconds before talking again. "What's wrong emo boy? All those smart ass comments? He pushed me once more, and I was leaning against the wall now. I felt like I was going to burst out crying any moment now.

He held the knife tighter. He was about ready to plunge it into my body. "Fitz, don't do this," I said.

"Someone's got to shut you up." He pulled the knife back, and I knew what was going to happen next.

Both Clare and me yelped, as I thought the knife stabbed me.

I looked at him, realizing I wasn't the one he stabbed, as I slid down the wall. I looked where the knife was; in the wall. He… didn't… stab… me…

Clare came up to me, probably to see what happened.

"Don't worry," Fitz smiled. "You can bleach out urine stains." He was referring to how I had peed my pants.

The next thing I saw was a bright light, and for a moment I thought I did die, and this was heaven.

"Hands up!" someone said. Clare and I stayed where we were and Fitz put his hands up. The police were here. "Nobody move!" the man continued.

I couldn't believe what had just happened. I sat there in shock, while Fitz was being arrested.

Just thinking of the incident, made me angry and upset.

I tore down all of my posters in my room, and ripped them apart. I planned on burning the rest of the pieces tomorrow. I found a box full of photos of when I was a child. It would be best if I burned those, too. The pictures were all of family friends and I. Mostly me when I was a young child. I found a couple of Julia, and debated on whether I still wanted those. I decided on keeping them for now. Maybe I'd burn them later, or maybe I'd keep them. I wanted a reminder of what I once had. Although, they did remind me of what I did to her; I killed her.

My room was a mess. You couldn't even see the floor. They were filled with just a bunch of worthless crap. Broken CD's, ripped posters, photos… just about everything I once loved. I'm not even sure if Dad would care about my room being like this. When the police called him, telling him about the almost stabbing, all he was, "Oh, okay, what the hell did he do this time?" in a voice like I wasn't worth living. Like I shouldn't live. I wished Mom were here. She made everything better. At least she loved me. Why did she have to move to the other side of the country?

More importantly, why didn't I go with her? Oh, right. I was too foolish to not know that Degrassi was a horrid school. I'd heard of the shooting, and how another student got stabbed (although that didn't happen at Degrassi), but I never believed that those things happened. I thought it was like my other school. There was barely any drama. Maybe a pregnancy here and there, but nothing like someone dying at school.

I wiped away the tears from my face and sat down in the middle of the mess. I was still so scared. I would never forget this night. The night I could have died.

Something was telling me that I should have died, that this was what I deserved for letting this Fitz thing go on for so long. Clare even said, before Fitz had gotten the knife that I deserved whatever punishment Fitz would give me. Of course, she didn't mean me dying. But I think I did deserve it. First, I kill Julia. If I had given her a ride home that night, she would never have got run over by a car. I hate knowing that our last conversation consisted of us arguing. I loved her so much.

Secondly, I hurt Clare. No one should ever see his or her loved one die, or almost die. It's probably hard for her too… or maybe not. She told me that she couldn't be with me. That probably meant she didn't want to be with me anymore. I was just as much a bully as Fitz. Who wants to be with a bully? Not Clare.

And third, I was just a jerk. A jerk who deserves to be punished.

I grabbed a piece of a Death Hand CD, and studied it. It had a sharp point at the end and for something reason, my brain was telling me exactly what to do with it. And for another reason, I felt the need to do this.

With more tears coming, I faced the piece of plastic to my arm, and with my right hand I cut deeply into it, leaving a trail of blood behind.