Besides the poster, the whole entire thing just seemed stupid and fake. It was creepy to look at all of the photos of Cass from field trips, sporting events, and birthday parties from elementary and middle school. Especially since in every picture, I was right there beside her. In almost all of them, we were smiling or laughing.

She looked happy in every single one of the photos and it tore my heart in two.

I stood there, staring at the whole entire shrine and then I dropped down to my knees. This whole thing was heart wrenching but angering at the same time.

I bit my bottom lip and picked up one of the candles. It was a cream colored one, sitting in a little class cup that it had been molded in. I lifted it up to my nose and sniffed. It smelt like cinnamon buns.

Cass hates cinnamon buns.

That just proved how fake this “loving” shrine was. I quickly grabbed one of the bouquets of flowers and began to tear away at the plants. Daisy petals began to litter the sidewalk beneath me.

I grabbed some of the pictures and ripped them in two, seething with a mix of fury and misery. They were lost memories now, just like Cass will someday be.

Still wanting to tear it all apart, I reached for the center of attention: the hot pink poster. The feeling of the cool, crisp paper was on my fingertips when suddenly someone grabbed my arms from behind, pulling me away. The figure yelled, “What are you doing?”

I instantly recognized the voice even though it had been a while since I had seen the owner face to face. Jace Andrews.

“Get the fuck off me!” I screamed and then shoved him away. He stumbled back and I stared him down, out of breath.