Talking to her makes me feel like throwing myself under a train because I can't stand to live in this world knowing there are people like her out there. The touch of her skin against mine makes me shiver, makes me want to take a thousand showers and scrub at my flesh so I can be clean again. So I can wash the picture of her sitting there, crying from my mind. How can I go on with my life knowing she's there? The guilt that I've allowed people like her to exist in my world overwhelms me. That shouldn't be allowed. I need to do something. All I can do is watch her living her life, watch her dying, horrfied, unable to tear my eyes away. But what scares me most of all is the voice in the back of my head whispering, "That could be you." I wish I never met her.