I was inspired to write something between a rant about everything that's going wrong and an autobiography... So here it goes.

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If I would've known I'd end up like this, I never would've done some of the things I did. I would've made better choices, thought things through, actually cared about my reputation—but I didn't.

High school was really a changing point in my life. I moved to Loudonville before the start of my freshman year, secretly to be with him, but that wasn't the only reason. I wanted to be closer to my family and get out of somewhere that actually turned out to be not so bad. I really thought when I transferred everything would be ok. People weren't exactly dying to know who I was but I felt somewhat welcomed and a sense of curiosity to know more about me. I guess I fucked that one up. I dated three boys in a matter of two or three months and everyone went from 'oh yeah that's the new girl' to 'that girls a slut, she's had sex with like ten guys and she hasn't even been here for more than a few weeks'. At first I was desperate to prove to everyone that it wasn't how it looked... I could care less now.

December 14, 2004- I started dating Nick (that's him that I referred to in the last paragraph). When I look back now, I'm not sure if I'd take him completely out of my life... But there are a few things I'd take back.

Everyone warned me. 'He'll cheat on you just like he did with everyone else'. This is funny, because every girlfriend he cheated on was with me. But they were right. On our 2 month anniversary, coincidently Valentines Day, he cheated on me with his ex-girlfriend (my ex-best friend) who was determined to get me back. I'm a firm believer in second chances. Everything was magical for the next few months until... Don't jump to conclusions. He didn't cheat on me again. I slapped him across the face and broke up with him before he had the chance. Shame on you if you fool me once, shame on me if you fool me twice. Around what would've been our seven month anniversary, after a three week break or so, he found his way back into my heart but by this time his mom hated me. 'Violence isn't the answer. I don't want my son in an abusive relationship'. We spent the next two months on the down-low until his mom decided to give him an ultimatum. 'Your car and basketball or Sasha'. Seriously? Military school if he didn't break up with me? Three guesses what his choice was. I'm not sure what he said to change her mind but she decided to have a 'chat' with us about sex and violence and lay out the rules if we wanted to be together. The last three months of the relationship were filled with constant arguing; I'm not even sure what we argued about now. I woke up on December 16, 2005 (pay attention to the date) to find my book bag at the front door and no ride to school.

He made my life a living hell after that. He hacked into my MySpace, my instant messenger, my email, my old Fictionpress account, and who knows what else. He'd pass me on the street, roll down his windows, and bark at me, humiliating me in front of everyone. He spread horrible rumors about me. He wouldn't give my stuff back. I was fed up. But of course.. I took him back. After seven months of not talking, he decided to pull up and catch up on old times. We lasted a month or so before the girl he's with now decided to jump in the picture. I'm finally over that whole situation. One positive thing that came out of it was my poetry. Broken hearts are great for writers block.

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I hadn't known her long, but the impact she made on me was nothing short of the greatest friendship I would ever come to know. We met on funny circumstances. She was talking to my ex boyfriend and her ex was one of my good friends. The first time we hung out we immediately had the chemistry of best friends. Little did I know at the time, we'd be spending every waking moment together and hardly leaving each other's side. In the beginning, we would text every now and than. She helped me through tough times and I soon realized she had been there for me more than most 'life long' friends had been. She would drop whatever she was doing if I needed her. When summer hit we were spending literally every day together. I could fill up page after page of the hilarious memories we made the summer of '06. When Liz entered her freshman year of high school (my junior year), we had big plans. We ate breakfast together every morning. We had study hall together. We made asses of ourselves that resulted in detentions and in-schools. We spent Friday nights at football games. We spent weekends at each other's houses. We went on blind dates. We double dated for homecoming. We took road trips to Cleveland. We spent birthdays together. We were softball teammates. We had a sweet handshake and everything. When, by some miracle, we weren't together we were texting songs and poems back-n-forth, playing stupid games, telling each other about our days. I relied on her. She always picked me up when I was having a bad day. I only hope I did the same for her.

May 4, 2007- I can remember that day like it was yesterday. It was a beautiful morning. I woke up late so I figured 'well, already late, mise well make it worth it'. I woke up at 10, checked my phone of course, but didn't see the text I was hoping for. Usually she would text me saying good morning or at least asking where I was when she realized I wasn't at school. Instead I opened my phone to see a text from Caitlin.

'Hey girly did you hear about the accident?'
'What accident?'
'Where are you?'
'Home. Why?'

It was almost normal hearing about kids here getting in accidents. I guess it didn't register. Not even 5 minutes later, Caitlin showed up at my door, and the look on her face told me I wasn't ready for what she had to say.

"Who got in an accident?"
"Well all we know is 3 girls from our school got in an accident. One is dead. One is being life flighted. The other is ok."
"Who???"
"Lindsey Williams, Sam Bohland, and Liz Borts."

I wasn't a big fan of Lindsey's as it was. The few encounters we had weren't good. I was pretty good friends with Sam, we talked a few times a week during breaks. But Liz? My best friend? No... My mind was racing. 'It can't be true. She's ok. I know she is. I need to call her.' I paced through my apartment calling Liz, her mom, her sister, her brother. 'No one will fucking answer.' So I immediately thought the worst. No one knew for sure what was going on. The only thing we could do was wait

The atmosphere around the school, despite the beautiful weather, was gloomy. Students sat on the front yard, huddled under trees, in the cafeteria, walking from building to building. I grabbed my glove from the locker room and sat by myself on the softball field at shortstop (that was her position). I had phone in hand ready for when she called. But the only thing I got was torturous rumors. I looked up and suddenly a group of girls would burst into tears screaming 'oh no she's dead' and a teacher would have to calm them down and reassure them that nothing was for sure yet. It felt like I'd been waiting for hours. 'Anyone but her, please, anyone but her.' Around noon we all got the announcement to find somewhere to hear the news.

"At approximately 8 A.M. three girls from Loudonville High School were involved in a one-car accident. Freshman Elizabeth Borts was pronounced dead at the scene…"

From there it's all a blur. I ran out of the library and did the only thing I could. Cry… They hung a poster in the cafeteria for friends to write their last goodbyes. I must've sat there thirty minutes writing a paragraph of everything I didn't get to say. I sat and looked at it and I knew I had so much more to write but no words could even begin to describe the empty hole I felt in my heart and the wrenching feeling in my stomach. My best friend… was gone.

I've lost countless friends and family within a short period of time. My grandma, who I was extremely close with, passed away when I was 9. My cousin was killed on his bicycle the night of 9/11. A family friend died soon after that. Classmate Garrick Tuttle was killed in a car accident in January 2006. Two close friends had lost their fathers who I considered my own family. But nothing ever came close to the pain I felt when I lost Liz.

Not a day goes by that I don't think of Liz. Little things will remind me of something stupid we did. Some mornings when I'm showering I'll stop and laugh and remember the time we took a shower together (in bathing suits) and her sister thought we were lesbians. I'll think about her at night when I'm brushing my teeth (she'd usually be texting me around then). I think about her during school, wishing she was here to keep me company. In such a big school, I feel so alone sometimes. I'll think about her when I'm driving and remind myself that showing off will get me no where, but dead. I think about her during softball. I hope she's watching me and bringing me good luck. So basically every moment I'm awake. I hope she's proud of me.

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This is what I have so far. This isn't meant to be 'poetry'. Im just looking for someone who can relate. And honest feedback. Thanks.