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Helena Abbot was one beautiful girl, if I were to be honest.

With her short, blonde hair that was straighter than my brother, Gerard, and different colored eyes (one hazel, the other blue) she was really something. If only she knew how much she meant to me, then we wouldn't be here.

But we are here, and I hate myself for being the cause of this. Everybody is saying that it wasn't my fault but screw them, because the know pretty dang well that it was. I guess they just think that if they lie about it, it'll all get better. But it really won't, and never will.

Because Helena Abbot still lives on in my memory, along with that one unfortunate day.

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Notes