It was silent in her neighborhood. She was staring out the window, dark brown eyes glistening in the rain. She hadn't expected the fight; she had just wanted to make the girl jealous. But no way on earth had she expected the blood and the tears that had followed. Now all she wanted to do was apologize.

She hadn't expected the sudden attack, the screams, the noise, and the blood. All that blood, and only from a nail file! Why had she thought that cutting the other girl's face up with the nail file was going to do anything? All it had done was cause more pain.

Several people had eventually dragged the other girl away, as she continued to scream. But what she said during the argument that followed shocked her even now.

"I hate you! I'm going to kill you! Lemme go already!"

"You're just jealous! Stop trying to fight! You're never going to win! You're friggin' worthless!"

"Which is why I'm going to kill myself! I don't wanna live if every day is gonna be like this! Everybody's betrayed me! I refuse to live in this world if everybody is gonna shun me for no friggin' reason! You don't know what it's like! So leave me alone!"

The silence that had followed from everybody in the hall had been nerve-shattering. The three people holding the girl back looked shocked. The poor girl's face was covered in blood and tears, and it had started to pool on the floor. She stood only yards away, teeth gritted, biting her lip, trying to think of something to say, an amazingly great comeback. But nothing had come.

Was she going to be the cause for the other girl's suicide?

The memory of her blood and tear stained face drifted in her mind, the Goth's words still screaming in her head. The girl's boyfriend, angry at the reason for all of this but more focused on trying to stop murder.

And she was the cause for all of it.

Looking back now, she thought of all the tormenting and pain she had caused people, either willingly or unwillingly. Not knowing she was making people so miserable that they were turning into suicidal maniacs. Wondering why the Goth and the Surfer girls both had been wearing longer and longer sleeves.

Now she knew.

Something in her mind was telling her she had to go apologize, but she couldn't. Not after all she had said and done. She couldn't take it back now! Driving all these people to taking anger out on themselves.

She fell on to her hands and knees, staring at the carpet. Wishing she could start over, wishing she could apologize. But it was too late. Everyone hated her, even her own parents. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, then got up and walked out the door, picking up a piece of paper as she went.

There were things you could do nowadays that would kill you near instantly. With all the guns and drugs around town, it could only take one false move and it would all be over.

There was a gun somewhere in her house, downstairs. She found it quickly, the six-millimeter handgun her dad used to scare off people from the IRS. She picked it up, cold metal in her hands, and smiled. Placing it down momentarily, she grabbed a pen off the counter and quickly wrote the two words that she hoped would be an explanation. Putting the paper in her pocket, she picked up the gun and walked outside to the driveway, sitting down and taking out the note. She lay it on the ground in front of her, where everybody could see it. It was raining, but the ink wouldn't wash off.

She smiled, looking up at the sky.

"I'm sorry, everybody. This is my apology."

Heather put the gun to her head and pulled the trigger.

oOo

A/N: After reading this, how many figured out the gunshot Bridgette, Gwen, and Trent all heard was Heather's suicide?