I stopped drawing.
Your hate and your ego and your viciousness devoured everything in your path, including a young girl in high school with lofty dreams.
It has been nearly ten years, and my blood still boils with anger and resentment.
Believe me, I tried to continue drawing, but you killed the spark that has lived inside me since I was a small child.
A human shouldn't be allowed to live happily when they have done nothing to redeem themselves, like you have failed to do.
All my dreams are gone, and you're to blame for this one's death.
Pencils put to paper no longer sing for me.
Because of you.