"Waiting hurts. Forgiving hurts. But not knowing which decision to take can sometimes be the most painful."
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You went home and cried. It's really the only thing that you wanted to do after the funeral. You wanted to cry until no tears would come out anymore.
"Don't you cry no more."
You were startled by the voice. It sounded so familiar. Hauntingly familiar. You looked up and saw (R/N).
"No." You murmured. You swore to yourself that you were officially crazy when spirits were talking to you. You didn't realize that it would be this early. "No. It can't be you."
"Did you miss me?" She asked, a smile forming on her face. "Because I sure as hell missed you."
"Go away." You said, running away to your room. You had decided that you were going to make a living for yourself by just living in your parents' home. You didn't really want it any other way. You slammed the door to your room behind you. But (R/N) was by the window, the sunlight making her look even more ghostly.
"You can't escape me." She said. "Just like you can't escape Mark's death. He's dead and he's never coming back."
"Is he at peace?" You asked.
"How the hell am I supposed to know that?" She asked. "Besides, I don't even care in the first place."
"You never really did care about anyone." You said. "You did kill my brother after all."
She smiled, as if that moment was the highlight of her life.
"I loved your brother." She said, looking down. "I loved him a lot."
"He felt the same way about you." You said. "But no. You just had to kill him."
"Look, I really regret killing him." She said. "I realized that he was really the only one that truly cared about me."
"I cared about you." You said. "When I first met you, I was really hoping that we would get along. Because college roommates are supposed to be best friends. And I thought that you were my best friend. But no, everything around me seems to be a lie."
"Listen, I rotted in prison long enough to truly think about my mistakes." She said. "What else was I supposed to do? It was just me and my thoughts. None of the other prisoners really talked to me because they knew that I was sentenced the death penalty and therefore didn't really take the time to get to know me because I was going to be dead soon anyway. I don't really blame them. I wouldn't talk to someone who got the death penalty."
"Why did you kill all of those people?" You asked.
"I was a member of this awesome cult." She said. "They said that they had an entire list of people that were the anti-Christ and we had to get rid of those people immediately. Looking back on it now, I realize that they manipulated me into it. I don't even believe in God. Why would I join something on normal circumstances?"
"The real question is," You said. "why exactly am I casually talking to you? I'm still extremely pissed at you for what you did."
"Well, I'm going to keep talking to you until you tune me out." She said.
"And how the hell am I supposed to tune you out?" I asked.
"That's for you to figure out." She said.

That's when you decided to go to the bar. It was nine o'clock and while you didn't really like the fact that there were going to be a lot of people there, you wanted to go there to feel wine down your throat. The good thing was that you didn't have work in that morning so you didn't have to worry about going there with a hangover.
"Are you drinking while you're pregnant?" A guy with blond hair that grazed his neck and piercing blue eyes that were so blue that they were like ice said to you.
"Shit." You said. How the hell could you have forgotten about Molly/Ashton? Maybe it was the fact that he/she wasn't kicking yet and you haven't had morning sickness or cravings or anything like that. "I am. But you wouldn't really understand the circumstances that I'm under."
"Oh, I think that I can understand a little bit (YT/UN)." He said.
You nearly choked on your wine when he said that. Sure, you had a decent following but after Mark died, you quit. You didn't mind that you wouldn't get the money anymore, mostly because it no longer made you happy.
"It's been a while since I've heard that." You said, setting your wine down.
"It's been a while since you've made a video." He said.
"I made it clear in my very last video that I was quitting." You said. "YouTube doesn't really make me happy anymore."
"Does it not interest you anymore?" You asked. "Or does it not make you happy because it reminded you too much of him?"
You nearly choked on your wine once more. Sure, Mark had almost eight million subscribers around the time of his death. Last time you checked, it now had surpassed that number and it was only growing everyday. It was funny that so many people had found him too late.
"Listen, I didn't come here to talk about my feelings." You said. "I came here to escape."
"I come here to escape too." He said, doing a hair flip. For the first time, you realized that he had a faint British accent in his voice. It was almost cute. Almost. "My situation is a bit complicated as well so I don't like explaining things either."
"Why is pain so hard?" You asked, finishing off the last of your wine. The bartender came over and took your glass as he asked if you wanted another wine. You shook your head. "Why do we even have to feel pain in the first place? Pain literally has no purpose."
"We appreciate happiness because we don't get to feel like all the time." He said. "If we felt happy all the time, we would take happiness for granted. But because we feel other emotions such as anger and sadness, we love it when we're happy. And here's the thing about pain, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger."
"Why is some random ass guy that I don't even know telling me some life lesson?" You asked.
"My name's Jesse." He said.
"(Y/N)." You said "Though you already knew that."
"You're not wrong." Jesse said. "I did already know that."
"Well, did you know that my favorite color is (F/C)?" You asked.
"I know pretty much everything about you." He said. "And I don't really mean that in a creepy aspect, I mean that wen you're a YouTube star, you have the super fans that know pretty much everything about you."
"So you're my super fan?" You asked, a smile creeping over your face.
"I never said that." Jesse said. "Just know that I know a lot more about you than you know about me."
"Then tell me about you." You asked.
"I only tell people about myself if they're interested in me." He said.
"I am interested." You said.
"In that case," he said. "I guess that I can tell you a little bit about me."
You smiled as you waited for him to speak.
"I was born in London, England but my parents, who were each from America and England respectively, decided that they were sick of living there so they packed up their bags. And mine of course because I was only four months at the time. Anyway, I grew up in the big grand state of New Jersey. Overtime, I developed an accent and I got really pissed so I begged my parents to take me back to England in the summer and they agreed that they should let me see the place where I was born. So I packed up my bags because, as it turned out, we were staying for a full week in England. With my annoying ass Jersey accent, I visited there and picked up on my British accent that had been hiding from me. I was nine during this time and, in order to keep my accent, I visited there for a month every summer. I would bring one of my friends and I even brought a girl that I was dating at the time. But we broke up after I found out that she had sex with the captain of the football team."
"That sucks." You said.
"It was good riddance." Jesse said. "She got herpes from him."
You laughed because you knew that she deserved it. You looked down at your watch and saw that it was almost midnight.
"I should really get going." You said.
"Aw." Jesse said. "That sucks. I'm here every Friday night so come and chat with me."
"I won't be coming back." You said. "This was just a one time thing."
"You don't have to come back to drink." He said. "You can just come here to hang out."
You grabbed your keys from your pocket, got up from your seat, and said to him, "Maybe I'll be back."
Before he could respond, you made you way out of the bar. As you were walking out to your car, you felt a breeze on your shoulder. You shrugged it off and kept walking toward your car.