I know I shouldn't be here.
I don't look at anyone as I walk to her room.
But I can feel it.
I can feel their eyes on me.
But I'm selfish.
Because.
Doing this.
Saying goodbye.
It's going to make me feel better.
Not her.
So, here I am.
I walk in the doorway, but I stop.
Because I can't move.
I'm glued to the spot.
Because it's weird.
It's weird seeing her.
Clean.
Seeing her clean.
Because she's usually covered in slushie.
And I almost cry.
I, Karofsky.
Almost cry.
Just at the sight of her.
Just at the sight of her tiny, lifeless body.
But I can't, not yet.
So I go over and whisper right in her ear.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
Then it all becomes too much.
I break.
I fall to the floor and sob.
And I start screaming.
I start chanting.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
And the nurses are pulling me away.
But I don't look at them.
I look at her.
I keep my eyes locked on Rachel.
I hope somewhere, somewhere inside her mind.
Somewhere inside her tiny, lifeless body.
She hears me.
And I hope she can forgive me.