My Fault
Natalie's gone.
Natalie's gone and it's all his fault.
Every time Henry allows himself to think those words, he feels worse and worse. If anyone should have died that night, it was him. Just to prove it to himself, he replays the scene in his head.
It seemed darker that night than normal—that was the only thing out of the ordinary in Henry and Natalie's life.
Henry was giving Natalie his usual lecture on doing the clubs and drugs, and Natalie was doing her usual sulking and ignoring him.
"Nat, come on, you know I wouldn't be telling you this if I didn't think it was best for you. I'm serious. You need to stop this." In response, Natalie turned up the volume on the radio. It was some stupid Taylor Swift song neither of them even liked.
Henry looked away from the road—he knows now that this was his dumb, idiotic mistake—and tried to get Natalie to at least glance at him. "Nat, I lov—"
He never got to finish his sentence. As he was speaking, not paying attention to what was going on around him, another car crashed into them—into the passenger side. Natalie's side. Natalie crumpled up immediately, and Henry could tell she wasn't breathing. Henry knew it was his fault. He could have stopped this. But he didn't. Natalie was dead.
Henry remembers the doctors telling him that Natalie's death was instant and painless, and Henry wanted to scream at them that they didn't know that. Natalie could have been in the worst pain she'd ever felt for all they knew.
And even if she hadn't been, she'd died being mad at Henry. He hated that. So much. She should've at least heard him say "I love you" one more time before she died.
Natalie's gone.
Henry grabs the razor sitting on his desk.
Natalie's gone and it's all his fault.
He slices into his left wrist, knowing the pain is his punishment for killing Natalie.
Natalie's gone and it's all his stupid fault.
He cuts into his right wrist.
Natalie died without hearing him say "I love you" one last time.
Pain, pain, pain—his punishment feels so much better than he ever could have imagined.
I love you, Nat.
He is going to see Natalie.