Scarred

I was always the good girl, I have never even experienced detention so it was a suprise to all especially me when I scarred the bad boy.

You might ask how a skinny girl could ever put a scar on any part of a six foot steroid induced man, well who said anything about a physical scar? He was the only one nice to me though his attitude towards other people can make you think otherwise. He was always there for me and I was the only one he trusted with his secrets. I guess I never realized that I wasn't a good girl to start with, I was actually the bad girl in the story. He trusted me with his life but the minute I wasn't alone or an outcast anymore I ruined him, usinf every secret , every embarrassing moments I know about him, I destroyed him. A scar was left behind a deep and long slash in the heart that even surgery cannot remove. A scar that led to his death. I wonder, was I always this cruel from the beginning or had the upper society changed me. What do you think?