It's been two days.

As PB predicted, nobody's come for me.

The majority of my hair has fallen out, and I keep throwing up. Every night, I dream of Finn. I remember all the good times before the war. And even though I knew The Lich was the cause of his death, I still blame myself. I blame myself for letting his hands slip out of mine. I blame myself for not telling him about his death.

I want to die. I don't care about life anymore. My life is just a speck of dust without Finn. I want the real Finn back. I want the one that used to cuddle me, who kissed me that night, and loved me. He may be a ghost, but he doesn't remember me. He won't remember everything we had, and all the time we spent together. Because of me. Because I'm a selfish bitch. I wish, if I could wish anything, I would wish to be a better person. But wishes don't come true. Life's a bitch. I already know this as I close my eyes, ready to die.


Yet another short chapter! :( Oh well. The next one is short too, sooo...