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The Break Up Queen.


Copyrighted 2013 - TheWaySheLoved



anyways, the plot is still mostly the same but i have to make some changed for it to work out the way I want.

sorry .





"If you could pull yourself together, that would be fantastic." I handed my sobbing friend a tissue. Her black tears were running down her face and onto her clothes. It was a giant mess. "Break-ups are easy, Aria." Probably 90% of the human population would disagree with that but it was true. You mumble a couple of words to someone and that easily they are gone from your life. Quite the perfect invention. I mean, if breakups didn't exist, we'd have to marry the first person we agreed to go out with and that would be a bummer considering I've dated some questionable guys.

My friend continued to sob uncontrollably as depressing music played in her room. She tried to form some words but all she could manage were sounds. This was crazy, I mean she was only sixteen years old, how could she have such a strong emotional attachment to someone having known them so little time?

"Cara, I loved him!" She wailed, she reached for me but I pulled away. I wiped her black tears from her face and she thanked me in between hiccups.

"You'll live. You're going to stop functioning over a boy??" I asked, standing up and walking around the room. "There are a million of boys, you'll find another one to replace this one and you'll be alright. So stop feeling sorry for yourself because you got broken up with and get up Aria!" I slammed my hand on the radio turning off the sad songs. She pulled her face up from her hands. The black tears I had wiped off had left stains on her cheeks.

"You're a horrible friend." She cracked a smile. The sniffles for a couple of moments but finally stood up and wiped her tears away. "Boys come by the dozen." She laughed.

Within the week she was back with the boy.
Why don't people understand break-ups should be permanent?


"His name is Jack Barnet." The girl currently sitting next to me said as she slid a photo of a herself in the arms of a handsome blonde man. Before I could get my hands on the photograph she retrieved it tearing it in half splitting it perfectly between the both of them. "Much better." she mumbled to herself, sliding the torn half of him towards me. In that photo they had looked completely in bliss, but I knew happiness doesn't last for everyone but she didn't. I nodded jotting down the name she had given. "I want nothing to do with him anymo-" Pause. I looked over to her, she looked completly torn, making me wonder what had he done to upset her this bad, but that wasn't any of my business.

She had black mascara running down her face, and black smudges from every time she had wiped her tears away.

"Can I get anything for you?" I let out a breath that I wasn't aware I had been holding.

We were sitting at a pancake house. People kept coming in and out and each one always noticed the hyterical girl next to me as she cried her eyes out. A petite blonde approached our table with a notepad in her hand. "Mandy." was her name according to the tag on her shirt.

"Uh yeah." I said running my hand through my hair. "Let me get a drink for my friend here." Looking across the table, she had buried her hand in her arms. Her body was shaking, giving away that she had started crying again.

Finally after a while, she looked up again revealing her red and puffy eyes, filled with unshed tears. She seemed to be in a lot of pain, regardless I didn't feel any pity or anything for that matter. "I know you must think I'm a coward and this sort of thing shouldn't be done by an outside party but you just wouldn't understand my situation! What should I do..." More sobs. I but my tongue trying to avoid telling her to suck it up and break up with him. Break-ups were easy.

I kept fighting the urge to ask questions but I didn't want her to cry any more then she was already.

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