She smiles, and this time, you can't smile back.

Because there she was, standing there in front of you (You look again and she's gone)

It gets harder and harder to make it through the days, not talking, not moving, not eating or sleeping

(Cus she's still gone)

And everybody hopes, with knitted eyebrows and wide eyes, when they look at you, that someday you'll learn to accept it.

(It seems as if you're the only one that cares that she's not coming back.)

(That she can't come back)

You have to Learn to except the fact that you'd never see her upbeat face, never see her ocean colored eyes light up when you walk into a smart remark, or the way she avoids you at all costs when she knows you've won, or the way she simply looks at you, in the slight 'i hate you' teasing manner.

You'll never see her again.

It just...was easier for everyone else to forget her...

(And harder for you to cope)

You're lost without her, everyone knows, everyone understands how much you cared.

The way you acted, the way you treated her.

They can't seem to convince you why though.

Why the hell did you care so much?

Your breathings heavy, as you arch yourself over, doubled in pain, the tears streaming down your cheeks.

You didn't do tears.

Right?

Not ever had you once shed a tear for her, the very thought made you feel weak, made you feel like...

You were much lesser.

(Than her, than everyone else. And you needed to feel strong in your relationship; you just...couldn't let them win. Couldn't let them believe they'd made a fool of you)

Wouldn't she want you to stop?

Stop now and forget you were left feeling this way.

She made you feel this way.

You could see it all on their faces, pure happiness, and bliss.

(While you're left alone in your own world of darkness, feeling like no one feels the way you do. Only you.)

You shrug it off every time you have to encounter them all again, hoping to never have to meet their eyes. It comes to a point where you can't even face them anymore; in fear they'll notice all you've been hiding

And it's not like you.

The next time you see her shadow again, she's not smiling, like she knows what's been happening to YOU, and she feels it's her fault.

She takes her seat next to you on the edge of your bed, and you look away. Seeing her, the illusion of her, just made it worse than it already was.

(You look back and she's gone again)

It's not like you didn't want to see her, when she was here that's what your goal was everyday, you couldn't go a day without her, and it was hard not to see her anyway seeing as she lived in the same house. Right in the next room.

You suddenly regret not looking at her.

Remembering back from the first time you saw her, you made a number one rule to not get attached. You didn't care for her at all but you knew with the type of girl she was (intoxicating, beautiful, smart and nice) there wasn't long before you did.

As days, weeks, months, and even years passed you hadn't even noticed that the rule had been long since broken.

She had taken her toll on you, trying to leave her watermark that she was important to you.

(All she wanted was to know she was important)

You were completely attached, everything said and done had something to do with her, circulating around her, desperate for more of her, where had that rule gone again...?

You can't forget every time she was there for you, hoping to catch your eye (she didn't know how much she meant to you), grab your attention, she didn't want to be something you could just shrug off, because she was just as stubborn as you, she needed to know she was needed by everyone, and most importantly you.

Now you're feeling guilty.

Is it your fault? No.

Then again you weren't exactly always there for her like you wanted to be.

(When she needed you, you rendered helpless, wouldn't lift a finger.
Now you need her, and she's rendered helpless, no matter how much she wants to help you, she can't.)

People always say that situations like these often lead you to question life more, to value what you took advantage of in the past; they of course meant life itself

For you it was Casey.

(So you'd spend your time sitting in the living room in the dark, in the silence, around three o'clock in the morning, doing exactly that. Questioning life)

Nobody really wants to think about it, you realize, it's an occurring thought in the back of your head when everything else has stopped moving, when everything else stops functioning.
It's a curse upon most people who suffer from depression and anxiety.

But you're perfectly fine, you decide, so around six o'clock you stop thinking about it, and you leave.

It hits one o'clock in the afternoon the next day when you finally come back, and they notice you walk through the door.

They don't smother you with worry, or concern, because they know you. As much as they don't know you, they know you. So you get away with it just this once, and continue to walk by them, ignoring yet again that one day you might have to face them.

You turn to go to your room, and you notice the door to her room is open, no one has ever gone in the room since, and so you're surprised.

(No you're not, your pissed. Your pissed that someone would bother walk into her room, and ruin the perfect sanctuary, ruin how it was left feeling so much like her.)

You make your way into the room for the longest time since she died, and it's like stepping into your own personal hell, it always has been even when she was there with you. You're not shocked that you're shaking, that your heart is racing and your trying to calm your nerves.

It's the worst place to be. Then again, it's so important to you.

You glance around, eyes wondering farther than expected and making you take in everything.

You've forgotten why you were in there.

"Derek"

You freeze, for a second you think you can hear her voice, but when you turn to look it's not her, it's your little sister, and she's standing there staring at you with her big eyes, and knitted eyebrows.

You're furious again.

"Marti, didn't anyone tell you- Didn't I tell you not to come in here?" The words are flowing out of your mouth, and you're yelling now. It almost feels good, like a weight has been lifted, but almost is the keyword.

Once you see her face, you stop again, you stop everything you we're thinking and just stare at her broken up expression, letting you notice the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry…" A sigh passes through your lips, and you walk up to her, engulfing her in your arms. She sobs into your shirt and you smile.

You weren't the only one after-all.

Looking up, you finally get to see her again, her and her smiling face. It's like she was trying to tell you all along.

She's gone, but she'll never leave.

Do you like it? It took me a while to finish, I haven't written anything in so long.

R&R plz.