The day I meet him, I wished I hadn't. I wished he'd have never been there, that I'd never have seen him. This wasn't because he was better looking, smarter, not really even because he was a bastard (although he was). It wasn't even because of something he'd done in his past, because as I have said, I just met him. Even though this world is too short to say something like I'm thinking, I hated him anyways. All of this was because…he wanted to die.

Where some people would have felt pity on a lost soul such as his to have to go through this world alone and wanting death to top that off, I just felt spite.

Jealously, I guess.

He brought up to light something I'd spent my life pushing back out of the picture, hiding it from all of them who wish to see. He made me stop and think, stop and remember.

Screw remembering, life's too short to stop and remember everything that went wrong.

Trust me.

I know. I'm rambling, caught in a wave of words with few that even make sense. Even now I'm still writing as if someone will be reading this, but then again, I guess if you are reading this, then…Please, let me just shut up now. Life's too short to ramble. Mom's calling up at me, telling me that supper is ready to stop doing my homework and come down.

Homework, this isn't my homework, maybe because…well, I dropped my bag when I first saw him and…I left it there.

I trudged on in an attempt to drag my mass of homework home in a bag strapped across my shoulder holding me down like a shackle. My feet drag along under me because I was majorly tired. This would so happen to be related to the fact that I'd snuck out last night so my best friend and I could stalk some men in a band that were just trying to make it to their hotel. Well, they made it there, and we didn't, mostly because we got stopped by security guards. Ah well…you'll have that. I tugged the bag after me and waddled along pulled down by a mixture of weight, tiredness, and gravity.

The sun had already gone down and I was just now making my way home after being at my friend's for half the day.

The night was cold and quiet, the perfect night. It was cool but not too cold. The trees were colored in so many different colors that I wanted to capture it all in something that I could keep with me forever.

I slipped into an alleyway, seeing it as quicker to slip through town by going this way. The walk wasn't too long, only about ten minutes from my friend's if I cut through the alleys.

Even thought alleys were said to have monsters and rapist and all that jazz, but I've never met anything weirder than a one-eyed cat. My footsteps echoed off the walls, ricocheting off the old stones that still made up the ground.

"Shut the fuck up!"

Oh great, who's cussing down my alleyway? If I was smart, I would have tugged my bag back in the other direction, but you don't get anywhere in life by staying safe. So I hiked my bag up higher on my shoulder and trudged down the alleyway. Two silhouettes began to become humans standing in the alleyway where the light from a near building illuminated them.

"Just turn around and leave," a man said.

"I'm not moving my ass until he agrees to tell me."

"I am not telling you shit!"

I think I might have kept walking if I hadn't seen the gun come out and aim at the man.

"Shoot me, like I would care! More'll just keep comin' back and they'll get you."

"So what you're saying is you don't care if you die, just if I die? Alright." He swung his gun over to his own head and I heard the gun click. "Good, I've been hoping to die for a while, this life sucks ass!"

I've been hoping to die for a while.

Bam. It' was like a rock hitting me in the side of the head.

I've been hoping to DIE for a while.

To DIE FOR A WHILE.

HOPING DIE WHILE.

The strap on my bag picked that moment of all to break, spilling my books out all over the road and making an ungodly loud sound. They both looked over at me at that moment.

"What in the hell? Who's the chick?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Oh screw this, I'll be back, so don't fret." The man bolted before I could see his face well enough to make a call to the police.

The other man still held the gun to his head so carelessly as he watched me with bored eyes. In a rash thought of anger and stupidity, I flung the remaining book I had in the bag, at the man's head as hard as my anger could allow me to throw. He caught it with ease with his unoccupied hand.

"May I ask why you are throwing books around?" he asked.

"Do you really not care about your life?" I asked.

He looked over at me, actually looking at me for the first time.

His age was probably twenty-six if I had to take a stab at it. His hair fell past his ears in flaxen curls of such gold it seemed unnatural. He was gorgeous, yet eerie and depressing all at the same time.

"Um…no?"

"You'd kill yourself?" I asked.

"You should never aim a gun at something you don't intend to kill."

"You're stupid!" I hissed. "You don't deserve the life you have!"

"Exactly, so would you mind killing me?" he asked, curiously, strolling up toward me. His movements were wordless, each step so fluid he'd make the angels jealous. A dancer would kill for his steps so precise.

"Don't talk about your life like it's nothing!" I cried, rage making me throw the torn bag at him in a need for him to shut up and to stop moving toward me in such a manner.

"But it is nothing!" He laughed now like it was all a big joke to him. He pointed the gun right at his face and stared at it for a second. "Come on, you can't tell me you've never just wanted to…pull the trigger?"

"No! Why would I want to end such a beautiful thing?" I asked.

"Beauty?" He snorted like I'd asked him to ride his bike naked through a playground. "Life is worthless, useless. Everyone deserves to die! You're life's short anyway. Who knows, today may just be your last day." He lowered the gun for the first time.

Tears began to touch my cheeks softly moving downward in a motion of sadness that struck my heart. "I hate people like you." With that farewell, I bolted away from him, ashamed of the tears and of my actions. His words still tearing in my heart as I ran giving my legs no mercy, making it home in under five minutes. 'Cause you never know what those five minutes I saved, will give me if I do just die tomorrow.

My alarm called out in a screeching cry, my arm automatically reached out and clicked it off. I groaned about the whole prospect of getting out from under my warm blanket. I gave the alarm clock a death glare for five minutes without it exploding so I finally hoisted myself up out of the bed, leaned over to ruffle my dog's ears. Whom in return, just stared at me with his two big brown eyes, then laid back down secretly snickering that he got to sleep longer. I grabbed the nearest clothes to me and pulled them on.

My undershirt was bunching up, annoying me greatly, so I pulled my hoodie off and changed my undershirt. My black dog Teto, yeah, that's Teto, groaned a complaint for me taking too long. I shut the light off and stumbled out into the hallway to the bathroom.

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did," I said, slipping inside, but my brother grabbed my arm and hauled my half-asleep body out of the bathroom. "Ow! You hurt me," I cried.

"What? Are you okay?" he asked, rushing over to me.

I pushed him out of the way. "I am now. Thanks, Blake!" I said, slamming the door in his face. My…sickness did get me a few things, like sibling's care.

"Isabella! You bitch! That wasn't even funny!"

"Yes it was!" I snickered as I suddenly realized my bladder was being torn apart inside my body.

Blake was three years older than me and enrolled in college, so on three out of five of my school days we fought for the bathroom.

I grabbed my brush and ran it through my really dark brown hair that was nearly black. It was always straight even if I curled it by the end of the day it reverted to its normal ways unless I held it together with a can of hairspray. Then I normally passed out from the stench. I pulled the brush through my hair quickly, looked over at my makeup but didn't feel like exerting the energy to do such a thing. I looked at myself in the mirror with my green eyes that the spring grass would envy with passion. My face was pale, but that wasn't anything abnormal for me.

I bit my lip and slid away from the mirror and out the door. Blake was waiting nearby, still complaining about how mean I was. "You're not allowed to do that!" he warned. He towered over me and was built like a football player, but I ignored his threat.

"I didn't do anything," I said, pursing my lips.

"I about pissed myself while you were in there taking an hour."

"I wasn't even in there five minutes!"

His hair was as brown as mine, almost browner more like Dad's. But his eyes were made of the same dark chocolate that Mom's were made of.

"Five minutes too long."

"Settle down big boy. It's taken you longer to complain than for me to be in the bathroom."

"Yeah, because that trick of yours was dirty! It was mean!"

I thought about it. Yeah, I guess it really was mean. "I know." I smiled sweetly as I headed down the hall clothed in a beige wallpaper Mom had applied when we'd first moved here.

My best friend attacked me at the door of the school. Not literally, but pretty close.

"Oh my god, Izzy! What the hell! You had me scared to death! I called you and called you but you didn't answer! If it wasn't for Blake I'd have been freaked out! I finally got ahold of him last night!"

"Oh, sorry Jasper," I said, sheepishly. "I met a dick yesterday and—"

"What?! You finally got laid?"

"Other meaning of dick."

"Ohh…sorry, go on," Jasper said, urgently, flipping his straight light brown hair out of his face.

"Well, anyway, my bag strap broke and I dropped my back and then I ran off and when I went back, it was all gone."

"Ooh…what are you going to do?" Jasper's about as straight as a circle, if you get what I mean.

"Um…nothing I guess," I said.

"What about your school work?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, what do you think I should do?"

"Um…we can just hope someone brings it back to you?" he suggested.

"Yeah, they'll just bring my cellphone and money right back to me."

"You never know."

"Yeah, I guess so," I said, but he can tell when I was lying.

Doorbell rang, alerting everyone in the house and setting Teto in a bunch of barks.

"Teto! Stop!" I said, poking the mutt in the rump with a finger.

He wiggled around as his tail thumped back and forth as I went to open the door. I pulled it open and almost laughed as Teto raced out, jumping around like he could whisk whoever back that had arrived and ran within the same minute.

I reached a hand out and took ahold of a Wal-Mart bag that I pulled up to myself. One quick look told me what was inside of it and a soft smile touched my lips. The yard facing me was clear of people as was the road and the sidewalk. I pulled the bag inside with me, but let Teto stay outside to jump and leap around like he was a puppy again.

I set the bag on the table and leafed through it, curious to see if my money was still there. Amazement touched me to see everything in place, as if I'd never left it with a madman.

Soooo? I always wanted to name a dog Teto just because it makes me laugh. A dog named Teto or Hootch! And a cat named Mao.