-You-

This is you.
You are a girl, fifteen years old. Your name isn't important, no one ever called you that anyways. You were always called Ghost, because you came and went like a shadow, or a ghost. Because you were so quiet, no one ever knew you were there.
Ghost.
The girl everybody ignored, that's you.
Your life was a mess. Your Mom was gone, your dad was in worse shape than you, and your brother was even worse than your dad. Compared to them, you were a dream. And you were pretty messed up, so that's saying something.
So when he noticed you, you got your hopes up. When he started calling you, you actually talked. And when the day came that he asked you out, you said yes.
To him, you ceased to be 'Ghost'.
He called you by your real name, and that made you glow. You weren't invisible, you were somebody. You were real.
But then came the night when he took you out, and you argued. It was over something stupid, like who was going to pay for the movie. Somehow, the two of you were yelling, and then his fist came down. You screamed. You cried.
He cried.
He swore it would never happen again.
He said he loved you.
And you believed him.
So the two of you did things you'd thought you would wait for. But you didn't wait. He said he loved you, and you said you loved him, even though you weren't really sure.
And then you went home, and wore makeup for a week, thick, so it would cover up your bruises.
And somehow, this would happen again, even though he said it wouldn't.
And again.
And again.
And again.
A pattern that would never end.
Then one day, you didn't want to say I love you, and love him, then go home. You didn't want to.
But he wanted you to.
And you hurt, you hurt so bad.
And he made you.
So you did, and it hurt, like you knew it would.
And when it was over, you went home, hurt, crying, and alone.
The next day, he tried to take you out. You were sitting in his car, when you said the word you'd been dying to say.
No.
And he yelled.
But this time you fought, and you fought hard.
Until suddenly, the window broke. The glass shattered. You shattered. Glass, every where, in you, on you, blood covering all of it...
And now, he was the one screaming. He was. But you couldn't hear him. You were swimming. Or at least, that's what it felt like. Swimming.
But you knew you weren't swimming, you knew something was wrong. That ringing in your ears, it was so, so wrong.
And then you really were swimming in darkness, and everything began to fade as the sound of sirens started to reach your ears and the flashing lights echoed off the glass.
He was out there, screaming.
And you were lying there, swimming.
No, no, no...
You weren't swimming, you were drowning. Swimming means you can float, feel air, but you couldn't. Not anymore. It was all gone. You were going under. Can't breathe...
Gone.