The boy touches her, not bothering to apologize. He didn't want to talk to her, not even a word because he just didn't want to talk to anyone right now. She continued walking, a grimace forming on her face. Just a year ago he whispered sweet nothings in her ear, tried to convince her to eat and go out with people. Now she doesn't even exist in his world, or so he thinks. Even though she no longer meant anything to him, she knew she couldn't be mad at him because she had a reason to feel that way. He finally reaches his destination. Their tree. He had just left that very tree and his scent was floating in the air. He wanted her back. He wanted to play with her hair one more time, and he wanted to stand there while his blades swirled through the sewers. But it was too late because he had failed, and now he was destroyed. She walks with no destination in mind while he sits in the shade of the tree. He finally decided where he wanted to go, back to the tree, where he knew it would be. "Hi," she murmured as she sat down next to him, under their tree. "Hey," he said, his voice dry, broken and hoarse. He wondered why it sounded that way. "Sorry," she said, turning to him, her once happy expression replaced by weariness and desperation. “Because I'm sorry, he croaked, and she realized when she did what she did, he was broken.” I put all my problems on your shoulders. I didn't even ask you how you felt, I broke you. I forgot I was all you had and yet I knotted the rope and kicked that chair away; I left you here in this cruel, cruel world that I knew you were afraid of." "But I'm sorry," he murmured. "For what?" She scoffed at him in disbelief. She had a feeling he didn't owe her an apology. "I left you dropped... in the middle of the paper... you... I forgot I was all you had and yet I knotted the rope and threw that chair away, I left you here in this cruel, cruel world that I knew you were afraid of. ." "But I'm sorry," he murmured. "For what?" "I let you fall to pieces, and then I dropped the remaining pieces of your soul onto the concrete so they could shatter. I broke you before you broke me." "I guess you're right, Khalil." The girl's ghost fled the scene and sat crying under what had been their tree but was now crimson red. A crimson red that was the same color as the blood that would soon spill over the remaining dandelions in a field of roses, daisies, and wildflowers. A sweet dandelion always loses its seeds, once petals that are stories blown around the world at every meadow, so that everyone can choose to get rid of dandelions or appreciate their unique beauty.