Dedication: Synonomous for the awesome cover! Thank you!

I roll the blue-inked pen between my thumb and forefinger, my mind unable to switch off thoughts about my toxic ex-girlfriend.

I thought I would have thoughts of her, coming up to this date, but I didn't realise how much it would affect me. Guilt pools in my stomach and I grip the pen hard in my hand, before dropping it onto my desk with a sigh.

Letting out a growl of frustration, I carelessly swipe my arm across the desk, sending my pens, notepad and text book, crashing to the floor.

I have one more exam – which takes place tomorrow. Then, I am finished high school. I have a plan. My bags are packed and I am ready to flee. Natalie and I are going to spend the summer holidays in my family's beach resort. It is the perfect getaway after a long and stressful year.

People haven't been subtle with their stares, judgement and rumours. They all think I am at fault. It didn't help my case, when I began dating Natalie, six months after it happened.

When I broke up with Olivia, she didn't take it well. She sobbed hysterically, before her anger took over. She screamed, cried and threw things at me. She was so hate-filled, but also filled with desperation for me to stay with her.

I couldn't put myself through the torture. We were like two natural disasters in the same zone, leaving a path of destruction in our wake.

Most people, before the Olivia-thing, would describe me as an easy-going, quiet guy. She brought out the worst in me and everyone saw it.

On the outside, she seemed so perfect. Nice, beautiful, thoughtful. It's what drew me in.

I regret ever getting to know her. She has made my life hell.

I'm surprised I've managed to make it this far, without having to move schools or even houses. Or, having a mental breakdown.

Still to this day, I can't help wondering what would have happened, if I never broke things off with her. Or, if I had answered her phone call, the night it happened.

One week, she was in front of me, in my arms.

The next, she was dead.

Honestly? It is my fault.

She would be alive, if it wasn't for our disastrous and poisonous relationship.

Most people think so, too.

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