We're arguing,
screaming and yelling,
hurling cold, harsh words at each other.
Finally, I've had enough.
"I hate you!" I scream,
and I bolt out the door and into the street,
tears streaking my cheeks.
I'm disoriented,
I don't know where I am,
or where I'm going.
All I want to do is get away from you,
away from the hurtful words
and the fighting.
Suddenly, I hear a screeching of tires.
I look up,
and see the glow of headlights
rapidly growing brighter and larger.
Before I can realize
that I am standing
in the middle of the street,
the speeding car hits me.
I feel no pain,
just see a bright light for a few moments.
Then, I am staring down at a body.
I soon realize that it is mine.
My cold, motionless body...
I'm not breathing.
My eyes stare blankly
into a nothingness.
I am dead.

I look around.
I see lights,
flashing red and blue
from the tops of the ambulances and police cars.
I see my parents,
sobbing as a police officer
tries to explain to them
that I am gone.
That I'm not coming back.
Then... I see you.

You kneel beside my body
and stare down at it.
With tears sliding down your face,
You repeat quietly,
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
That's when I think of
the last three words I said to you...
"I hate you!"
I realize I didn't mean them.
I never meant to say them.
The guilt overwhelms me,
the regret fills my soul.
I should've told you
that I loved you,
that I didn't mean those words...
I should've told you
how much I care about you.

Now you'll never know...
Now you'll never know that those last words were not the truth...