By my side
You’ll never be
By my side
You’ll never be

“ASHLEY!” Spencer lunged at me knocking the lighter to the ground.

“WHAT THE FUCK, SPENCER? They’re still there!” I began to cry. “There – there still thereee!”

“Ashley, what the hell were you thinking?” I felt her eyes on my arm. “We need to run this under cold water.”

I wanted to tell you I'd changed
I wanted to tell you that things would be different this time
I see you
You see me
Different
I see you
You see me
Differently

“GO AWAY! I hate you!” I looked around suspiciously. “You’re – you’re the reason I’m crazy!” I couldn’t take it. I needed something. She didn’t understand…

You tell me that you love me but you never want to see me again
You tell me that you love me but you never want to see me again
You tell me that you love me but you never want to see me again
You tell me that you love me but you never want to see me again

-SPENCER’S POV-

Ashley began tearing the cushions off the couch, throwing magazines around, CDs, books, everything. The drawers were pulled from the counter when she ran into the kitchen. I ran after Ashley, yelling franticly.

By the time I caught up. The whole bathroom was destroyed. The medicine cabinet was empty: bottles and other crap lay on the floor. She glared at the reflection of herself in the mirror.

“Fuck up.” She hissed. I stood cautiously, just outside the door. Her pupils were almost non-existent and her auburn locks disheveled and dull. I was at a complete loss of what to do and terrified of what Ashley would do. “FUCK UP!” She screamed causing me to jump in surprise. And before I could do anything, she smashed her fists in the mirror. “Fuck up, fuck up, FUCK UP!” The glass shattered around her fist. I stood paralyzed as the shards cut through fine hands. Hands that I could sometimes still feel on me when I tired to fall asleep. Hands that I loved.

“She doesn’t love you! Fuck up! You stupid whore! She doesn’t love you! She doesn’t love you!” Her voice strained with the volume and soon Ashley began to cry too heavily to yell and she slumped against the cabinet, her fist dragging down its surface catching loose glass with torn skin. With one last attempt her bloody fist pathetically pounded against the broken mirror before completely giving up. The bathroom was silent except for the sobs shaking Ashley’s fragile body. Suddenly I could move again and stepped unsurely into the bathroom.