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A is for Arsenic
Across the room sits the most angelic boy I’ve ever laid my eyes on. His blonde hair falls perfectly over his forehead. His blue eyes sparkle every time the light hits them. Surrounded by a crowd of talking people, he is all I can focus on. I watch as he lifts his muscular arm to bring his sandwich to his perfectly pink lips. I can’t help but watch his every move as he takes a bite, giving my a glimpse of his pearly white teeth. My eyes shift to watch his throat as he swallows. Now I’m just watching and waiting. He continues to talk to the people at his table and the cafeteria continues to be filled with the sound of many conversations. I can’t hear what he is saying, but I can see he is slightly pained. I began to feel sort of guilty that he he is in pain. It has become obvious to the people around him that something is very wrong. The color has drained from his perfectly sculpted face. He looks so sickly now. I feel like I should go over and help him, but I stay in my seat. I watch as his eyes roll slightly into his head. I can tell that he is about to collapse. I watch as he, as if in slow motion, falls to the ground. People begin to worry about im and rush to his aid. I start to rise from my seat to go help him, but then I see her. She rushes to his side and throws her arms around his neck. She is visibly upset by his unmoving body. More people crowd around him as she caresses his face. Tears fall from her eyes and trail down her face. The guilt I was feeling has now vanished. I may have killed the boy I love, but at least I know she won’t have him either.
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