That’s you. Callie, you’re the only person that’s ever made me feel happy about anything. That night you saved me, you changed something in me—you made me want to live.

You really need stitches," she tells me."Or you're going to have a scar." I try not to laugh. Stitches aren't going to help. They fix skin, cuts, wounds, heal stuff on the outside. Everything broken with me is on the inside. "I can handle scars, especially one's on the outside.

The cemetery is my sense of comfort, my sanctuary in a world of darkness, the one piece of light that i have in my life.

But we all make mistakes. It’s how we fix them that makes us who we are.

I let my head fall forward into his shoulder, breathing in his scent. "Now what do we do?" He's quiet for a while and I finally lean back to look him in the eyes. He appears conflicted by something and then he sets me down on the ground, lacing his fingers through mine. "Should we see where the wind takes us?" he asks. I stare at my hand in his and then look up at him. "That sounds good to me.

I sometimes feel like life is just one big test to see how long we can survive.

Always ask for the truth. Just make sure the time is right.