Liam

(You are a guy)

You and Liam had been friends practically since you were babies; you knew him like the back of your hand. You were from a wealthy family, so you often spoiled him with various things and sweets—and so he was spoiled by you. In high school, he became friends with some guy who became a bad influence on him, so you were always telling Liam off. One evening, while walking together, he pulled out a gun and started jokingly pointing it at you, saying, "Put your hands up!" You said calmly, closing your eyes, "Lee, stop it already." He looked at you and said with pouting lips, "It's just a toy," before pointing the gun again and pulling the trigger (he hadn't pulled the trigger before). The bullet hit you right in the head. Liam froze in fear, blood splashing across his face. He stood rooted to the spot, unsure what to do. He called that friend, who helped bury your body. But rumors spread quickly, and Liam cried long and bitterly in his room. One day, he finally made it out of his room and into school. Wearing black clothes and a cap, Liam wandered down the hallway until he heard many students whispering among themselves, "Liam killed him..." Liam froze in place, his heart sinking. Fear took his breath away. Unable to bear the words any longer, he turned sharply and ran to the restroom. As he flew inside, a small soft light suddenly sparkled in the dimly lit room. You were standing right in front of him. Liam didn't even have time to be surprised or scared—his feet carried him toward you. He rushed forward, hugged you tightly, and burst into tears, burying his face in your chest. You stood quietly, hugging him back, looking at him with deep sympathy. Blood was still visible on your clothes and head, and one eye was tenderly covered by a snow-white angel's wing.