Well, here's the last chapter. I'm getting this over with so that I don't lose the idea, so um… Don't blame me if it's short :D (Woah, heads up, language warning. It seems that growing up also expands your vocabulary!)

Chapter five: Be Still

"So I sit me down in the silence,

And say to my soul, 'Be still,'

So the world may not know we died that night,

From weeping on 'Heart-break Hill.'"

Here I am again. Night after night, I retreat further into my mind, into my depression. Could I go back and reverse it all, would I? I'm addicted. These feelings of loneliness, of loss, and of… torture. Would I take it all back? Sam… She could have been my lover. I could have made her mine, if only I had had the courage to tell her. God, tell her anything! Drop a hint, give her a smile, something! But I guess, if she ever really wanted me to begin with, she would have made a move. Right? Or was she just waiting on me?

Every night, I fucking swear. I tear into myself with grief, depressing myself even further than I thought possible. I see myself getting paler and skinnier, losing interest in everything from ghost hunting to personal hygiene. Sure, I still do them. What kind of a shell would I be if I didn't do things, right? Don't worry, I'm still here. Just barely here, doing the things I once put on high priority. I need something to pull myself up in the morning, to keep myself alive. Right? Or do I find a way to finally end my misery?

Maybe I need drugs. Drugs make everything okay, I've heard. But I've also heard they make everything worse. So maybe not. Alcohol? I've dabbled, I'll admit, but not enough to get away with it here at home. I'd need someone with connections. And I don't now anyone off the top of my head, so I know I'm not going to go in search of someone. What I need… is something accessible.

No. What I need is Sam. I need her more than I've ever needed anything or anyone. And there goes that internal blade again, cutting right into my heart. Tears roll freely down my face and I'm forced to blink them away. Impulse, I guess.

I glance wistfully at the dresser. Her necklace, which I study every night, has been waiting for her since the beginning of school year. And here I sit, moping around at the end of January, still lacking the balls to give it to her. It would be a waste of money to keep it. I need to get rid of it, whether I sell it or give it to her or whatever. But I'm feeling a little better now; I have a mission, I have resolve. I have… no idea what I'm going to do.

…

Valentine's Day. It's perfect! Cheesy, but perfect. She'll never have to know it's from me! I'll drop it off at her house, ring the bell, and go intangible. Badabing, right? Maybe I'll even stick around to see her reaction. I need to get some wrapping paper. I need… I need to write her a letter.

I tear into my hair with panic. "Oh God," I croak, realizing that it's been hours, maybe even days, since I've spoken. "She needs to know. I know she does. But she can't know it's from me." Gears are turning in my head, and I'm turning my room upside down for some paper. "Why the fuck can't I ever find what I'm looking for?" I cry in desperation.

I know I have two weeks at least, but I feel a rush flood my body. There's a need there, a need to get down all my feelings on paper. So this is why people write poetry.

Finally finding a stray scrap, I pull out a book and plop myself on the bed.

Sam, writes the pen. I study it momentarily, hoping her name will bring the right words to my hand. Pain beats steadily in my chest and I'm crying again. I'm crying? Why do I have to do this every time I think of her?

…

The past two weeks have been tolerable. I haven't wrapped her necklace yet, because I think the only thing keeping me sane anymore is looking at it. It stood out to me above all others that day; made of pewter and hand-decorated with tiny chains, the silver cross holds a black heart in the center. Each tip has small red diamond-shaped jewel embedded in it, and the whole thing put together is perfect for her. It's a medium-sized pendant, and should fit the size of her chest beautifully.

Today is the day, and I kiss the heart softly, whispering a goodbye to the only thing I have left of her. Placing it carefully in the small box, I make sure the chain doesn't knot up, and finish it off with the scrap of paper that bears my soul.

I see Sam in the halls at school; he's with her, holding her hand, talking and laughing with her. Her smile is gorgeous, and her eyes shine when she laughs. That's the love I would have if I weren't so stupid, I can't help but think. Standing in the shadows, I watch them pass and hold my breath, just in case she happens to look my way.

She never does. It's like she's a different person. Or maybe I'm different. I don't know. It's so hard to think lately that I think I might explode!

The bell echoes my way and I drag my feet, shuffling to my next class.

History is almost empty, except for a few early birds and the teacher. Nothing looks wrong here, so I sit in my seat and wait. I have five minutes until the class begins, so I busy myself with the desk in front of me, scratching at it with a dying pen. People who dare to look at me see a forlorn carcass of a boy, struggling to do just about anything with his time. Whispers dance behind me, and I can sense some people a few rows back. My heart thumps in my throat and I know their whispers are about me. But I need all the courage I can get to make it through this day, so I close my eyes and rest my head on the desk.

Be still, I tell my heart, my soul, the thing with which I battle every night. Soon you will be heard. Let them talk. They know nothing of true heartache.

…

I follow her home, floating behind her a few yards to make sure she doesn't notice me. She walks alone, arms wrapped around her books, hands clasped at her sides in happiness. It's plastered all over her face. She smiles at the sidewalk, and I ache; it wasn't long ago that she smiled at me. In my hands I hold her gift. Tenderly I grasp it, fingers trembling at the thought of letting it go once and for all.

She turns down her street, mounts her steps, and slips through the doorway. I wait outside, listening to her humming as she makes her way upstairs, dialing her cell phone.

"Jared?" I hear. It's like a stab to the chest. Tears well, and I place the box quietly in front of her door, ring the bell, and retreat to the other side of the street.

With a whoosh, her glassy front door opens and her head pokes out, checking to see if anyone is there. Finding nobody, she goes to close it, but stops. What is this? A package? Her hand is to her ear, and I hear her faintly tell Jared to hold on a moment because someone left her a box.

The phone is put down, the gift is brought up, and the wrapping comes off. Safely behind a tree, I watch with a wrenched and decaying heart as she removes the pendant from its home, letting the paper drop. Her mouth drops open, a small cry of disbelief floats from her lips. I almost yell when I see my note picked up by the wind, but her eyes catch it just before her hands, and when she opens it up, she breaks down.

Sam,

I have taken too long, so with this gesture I withdraw myself from your life. My heart has always been yours, since before even I knew it. But now I am giving you my heart, Sam, and letting you choose what to do with it from here. I love you, and will love you until I die.

Does she know it's from me? I watch, rapt, as her eyes leak tears I wish she wouldn't shed outside. She gathers the remains of my gift, hand over her mouth, and closes the door. What effect have I had on her? Is she disgusted or what? I can't tell! God, I wish I could have just told her! Maybe there would have been a chance for me.

Defeated and fading, I listlessly fly myself home, wishing I could have done more. My words, the words I conjured up just for her, play around in my head, and I'll live with them for the rest of my pathetic life. Farewell, Sam, I think, you were the best thing that ever happened to me.

Good God, I had no idea where I was going with this D8 I pretty much took my thought and ran with it. But basically, this is it. So um... Yah. :D! I love sad endings.