I can't stop dreaming about them...

Whenever he's in my dream he's either alive and happy, or hating me.

Whether the dream is good or bad, it feels like it destroys a part of my soul.

I wake up and for a few blissful moments he's still alive. Then I remember it was a dream, and it's like he dies all over again. 

I can hear the police knocking at my door to tell me. I can feel the empty horror, I can see the faces of the people who were around me contorted in sadness and disbelief.

I remember calling my mum, and her confusion as I told her that he was dead.

I remember everyone saying sorry to me, with them trying to hide that they were crying.

I remember the tears falling down my face, burning a trail, and them I remember the pure emptiness that consumed me.

For the next two weeks I couldn't feel anything. I didn't laugh. I didn't cry. I couldn't feel anything.

I remember meeting with his sister and Dad, and the first bits of emotions coming back to me. 

Guilt. Pure guilt and fear.

What if they blamed me as well?

I love them both, but what if they hated me now?

Or scarier still, what if they still loved me?

I don't deserve their love.

But when I got there they hugged me, they tried to look after me, and I didn't understand. 

Why weren't they angry at me?

I deserved anger and hatred, not caring.

Please hate me. Please love me. Please hate me. Please love me. 

I remember looking into their eyes and wishing.

I didn't know what to wish for, I didn't know what to think, or what to do, or what to say.

Why do you still love me?

It felt like their love and caring was burning me, and I didn't know which would have hurt more, their hatred or their love.