Ideal song for this chapter: Everybody Finds Love (In the End)- Sakura Nagashi

Should you have forgiven him?

You pondered this question to yourself as you wandered the place- a huge garden. The bushes and fields were bustling with people who didn't seem to notice a lone teenager in heart pyjamas strolling around. Even though there was no sign of Brandon around, your troubled mind still thought back to him.

It had been mostly your fault, after all- you had been the one who'd stayed awake and seen everything that night. But what choice did you have? You couldn't sleep.

Still lost in thought, you kept walking around until you came to a quieter and prettier place.

A field of soft pinks and purples made up that entire field. When you cautiously stepped onto it, you were amazed to feel a soft, almost carpet-like grass beneath your feet. You admired the flowers all around and the occasional spray of petals decorating the sky.

The only sounds around were the gentle whispers of the summer wind and the buzzing of hummingbirds.

You honestly felt like you were going to fall asleep on the bed of flowers. What would happen? Would you wake up in reality again or trap yourself in yet another dream?

You found yourself hoping it would be the latter.

You were about to drift off, when, for the first time in a while, you heard another human voice.

"Ah... she loves this colour so much. I can't blame her, they're so pretty..."

You opened one eye in the voice's direction and your eyes widened to an impossible size.

Brandon was there, in his usual button-up shirt and pants, head facing the ground.

You turned to run, not wanting to see him again, but froze when you heard his next words;

"Nikki... I'm sorry I can't say a proper goodbye to you. But I need to go. I made you hate me. Who knows... maybe there's someone better for you out there."

He raised his head.

'What?!'

He was smiling. A soft, sad smile.

He stood up and brushed himself off like he wasn't about to do something completely horrible to himself.

He took out a pocket knife from his pocket.

"No," you cried out. "Brandon! Please, stop! I promise, if you don't, I'll stop being mad at you! Please! I'm not even angry at-"

But he didn't stop. The tip of the knife pressed against his skin.

Then, he hesitated.

A pained look crossed his face, and a few tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Brandon," you uttered. "Please, come-"

THLSH.