I woke up suddenly as the flashbacks stung like a knife. I rubbed my cheeks and felt the tears that stained them, and I knew that that day would be full of fear. Each passing moment crept closer the Petes fate. I wanted to stop him, like all those other times I tried. Except those other times I didn't have his soul telling me.

The day progressed horribly. The hours sped by as I wanted to go home, for it all to be over. I felt horrible that he was going to kill himself because of me. The hours had never felt so daunting.

As nightfall came, I didn't acknowledge my family. I ran straight to the caravan and dashed to my bed where I knew a letter would be. The fear swept into my body as I saw the white piece of paper, folded in a haphazard way. I nervously picked it up, knowing that when I read it I'd be on my way.

Dear Georgia, meet at the boat ramp.

I ran.

The fear grew bigger and bigger and I ran through the little streets at the caravan park. As I left the park I saw the boat ramp in sight, Pete sitting on the edge and dangling his feet in the river, no emotions or fear showing.

"Why?" I asked him, sweat building on my forehead, "why are you going to kill yourself?"
He doesn't look up, but his face became pained.

"I moved about the world with a pride nature before you, seeing that the world was my play den. I met you, and I knew I couldn't live without you. I love you."

"Your definition to love is different to mine then," I said, looking him directly in the eye, "you abused me when I said I loved you because you thought I lied. You never believed me."

"Because I thought I was not good enough for you!" He shouted, anger suddenly flowing through him, "I thought you'd slip away when you spoke to another guy!"

"That doesn't mean you abuse me! I trusted you! When all you did was make everything about yourself! You demanded I spoke with you otherwise you'd kill yourself! You didn't keep me closer, you drew me further away."

There was silence. I knew that he still hadn't realised that the pain he put me through was worse than the pain he thought I put him through. I truly knew that we weren't meant to be together, but we had both sent a comet into our lives that caused a nationwide destruction. He was fire. I was gasoline.  Just like that Sia song.

He sat there further, knuckles clenched as his feet continued to dangle in the water. I stood there close by, watching as I remembered what he once told me: "You mean the sun and her sky to me, for without her sky, the sun is just burning."

"I meant that," he spoke, looking up at me and locking eyes, "but I didn't realise how far away the two are. It takes 8 minutes for the suns light to reach earth."

It clicked what he meant. It seemed like he was finally understanding.

Something suddenly jolted in him again, and this time his hand went to his thigh.

"What is that?" I asked, more concerned than the night before.

"Human me," he replied in pain, "the nights leading up I self harmed, cutting my wrist, my thighs, and tomorrow night my other wrist." He moved the sleeve from his shirt and revealed fresh scars, then pulled up his shorts to reveal the brand new ones.

I stepped back in shock and fear. I remembered vividly when I ended our relationship and he self harmed, something that shocked me then and something I had to stay strong through. Even though I wanted to help him, I knew he was only doing it to get me back.

"I'm scared," I said, walking over to him and sitting by his side, "neither of us have healed, we've just done the same amount of damage."

He straightened up, creating circles in the water with his feet.

"This is when we heal," he stated, grabbing my hand, "I heal from living without you and you heal from how I treated you."

"You don't have to die."

He stood up. "Ah, that's for tomorrow night, the eve of. For tomorrow you will bargain, but a deal cannot be made."

He dove into the water before I could say a word, and with that he was gone.

I let what he had said sink in, knowing that the Pete still alive had finally finalised his decision. I cried.

The stars shone bright in the night sky, and I mourned the man that would soon do what he spoke.