He had the classic bad boy persona, burdened by a troubled family and consistently making poor choices. He was trapped in his own despair, haunted by his family's brokenness. It was unfair for someone so young to carry such heavy baggage.

You were his solace, his means of complete escape. Whenever he needed a breath of fresh air, he would seek you out—always. The two of you would stroll through the school hallways together, engaging in random, silly conversations. He even confided in you about his fascination with vampires. He placed an immense amount of trust in you. You were the only one who treated him right, who didn't view him as a weirdo.

How could you possibly say that you couldn't be friends with him? After everything the two of you had been through together? It was absurd! Even he wasn't that irrational.

"No," he stated firmly, shaking his head as if he were a madman. "No. You're not doing that." You attempted to explain that it was due to your parents' influence, but he didn't want to hear it. He believed that you wanted to end things. "This . . . us," he emphasized, "is not coming to an end, alright?" He refused to let go of the one positive thing in his life.