My Pretty Sweetheart (Arianna)

After some time, I compromised and got out of the car.

I walked up to Hendrix and said, "Please make way. I need to go home." He was blocking the entrance of the neighborhood, and we couldn't get past him without running over him.

He reached out to grab me, tightening his grip to the point where it hurt me. For a very long time, he only stared at me. His eyes showed his pain. Then, he said sorrowfully, "Arianna, this isn't your home." He was shaking, but I doubted it. I must be the one who was shivering, perhaps from the coldness in late autumn. He wouldn't be shaking.

I wanted to laugh, but I couldn't. My eyes hurt so much, and I tried my best to shake his hand off. Pushing down my emotions, I said, "You can continue to stand here and block the way if you're not afraid of dying."

After that, I got into the driver's seat. Since Aaron didn't pull out the car key, I started the car. Then, looking at the man who was standing unwavering in front of the car, I warned in a deep voice, "Move." He looked at me, his eyes deep like a bottomless pit, and he said, "If my death can make you feel better, I'll gladly do so."

The autumn breeze in Jarold City was strong and cold. The maple leaves on the streets swirled in the wind, scattering around like lost children without a home.

"This is your final chance to move now," I said softly, but in a very cold voice. "Because I won't hesitate to run over you."

"Sure. Don't go soft on me," Hendrix replied. He was calm, but it wasn't the same with Aaron.

Looking at me, he shouted, his voice thick with worry, "Arianna, don't do anything impulsive!"

I narrowed my eyes and

aggressively turned the steering wheel, bringing the car to hit the curb. This suicidal impact hit me hard. My head buzzed, and I felt

something warm rose

had drained my energy-1 passed

However, before I completely blacked out,

"Arianna!"

"Arianna!"

were Hendrix's and

I woke up in the hospital with a

felt numb all over and stared at the ceiling. I felt a little disgusted with myself. Look, I couldn't even kill the person who hurt me the most. I was

the person standing by the bed, and I couldn't help but feel ashamed. "Sorry, I didn't manage to control myself. I made trouble,

would be frightened. Yet, later on, he would be relieved as long as I was

my forehead away, and then whispered, "You're

chuckled. I didn't know if he was feeling blessed that I had survived or scared that I might not. My gaze fell to the back of my hand. There was a needle there, and the area around it was a little swollen. It seemed that I had been

slept for a long