For the first few hours, I was in shock. People are expecting me to break down and cry. I will not cry over Cam. I can't cry here, not in front of everyone. Everyone is looking at me in different ways. Point at me. Whispering about what Cam did.

I don't know how to react to this. I have never been the girl to have a boyfriend let alone one who kills himself. All I can think about is playing music. They want to hold a vigil for Cam, after only a few hours of being dead. I just want to play the cello; it's the only way I know how to express myself.

The whole day I go through feeling numb, like it didn't even happen. Cam should not be dead. I feel as if Cam is just going to pop out and everything will be okay again and that he'll have hoot with him. I wonder where hoot is.

I see different people react different to the news. Tori and Tristan were sitting on the floor crying. I heard that Dallas freaked out at Allie blaming her and him. There is so much blame. I blame Cam, he should have fought harder. He told me he would try harder, and he didn't.

The whole day my emotions are like ice. I don't feel. I want to be angry, but I can't. I want to be sad, but I only feel numbed. I feel like glass. I am strong for now, but I know I will crack.

People start to upset me, but not Cam. I get so mad at the vigil I can't hold back. I blame Cam. I say that the vigil is stupid. I say he should've fought harder. I didn't want to blame Cam; I don't know where all of that came from.

Katie tells me it wasn't his fault and that he was sick. I hate how she says that he was sick. It's not like he had the flu. Cam should have talked to me I argue. I should have talked to him.

All the apologies I've been getting, I want to push everyone away but I can't. I want to forget Cam, but I don't at the same time. I want someone to come in and tell me they got it wrong, that they thought he was dead, that they thought it was Cam, but it wasn't. But it was Cam. Cam is dead.

My first boyfriend is dead. They didn't even let me see him. I want to ask the boy who found him what it looked like, but I don't have the strength. Maybe I don't actually want to know.

I hope he went peacefully, as if he drifted off to sleep. I doubt that is how it happened. If Cam was to the point of suicide, I'm sure the last thing he wanted was for him to feel it. Zig told me it was his fault. I want to get angry at him, but I tell him it wasn't his fault.

They tell me they found hoot, they didn't tell me where but I presume with Cam. I can imagine him dying with hoot nearby, the last thing he had of me. Cam still had me, I love him. I had just realized I was in love with him the other night, and now he's gone. I won't ever get to tell him that I love him.

I know that Cam loved me. Looking back, I can see that he loved me; he was just bad at showing love. I'd like to think that I kept Cam around longer, but I'm not sure. Cam always seemed happy, but looking back at it occasionally he'd look sad when he thought I wasn't looking at him. It was like he was taking off his mask for a moment.

When I get home, I finally let myself cry. I told everyone I would not cry, but I lied. I am selfish; I want to yell at Cam for leaving me. It wasn't his fault, he was just sad. I should have helped him. I could have saved him if I tried harder.

Now I am left alone, and Cam is forever gone. He can't take it back. I don't know what Zig told him, but I'm suddenly angry at him. I watch the video Cam sent me repeatedly. I read his text, and I realize; Cam wasn't breaking up with me. When he said it was over he meant his life.

After this realization, I break down, and I cry so much I'm surprised my room hasn't flooded. If my tears could bring him back, I would cry him an ocean. We hadn't kissed a lot, but I know in my heart he was the only boy I'll ever love. I was the only girl he would ever be with. I will grow old, eventually marry and have kids, but Cam will not. Cam won't ever have children. Cam won't ever play in the NHL. He will never smile or laugh. Cam will never cry. He won't have to feel the pain that I feel. Cam will always be 15.

I'm not sure if they age in heaven or not. According to the bible, suicide is a sin and you will not be let in the gates of Heaven. I can't see a boy like Cam not getting into heaven if heaven exists. You would think God would save Cam. Wherever Cam is, I hope he's happy now. I hope he isn't in pain anymore. I hope that he isn't suffering like I am.

Someone should have saved Cam. Nobody did anything, we were all too afraid. Nobody ever thinks it will get to the point of death. I pull out my cello and play. I play for Cam. I play for hoot. I play for myself. I'm not sure who I play for. I play until my arms hurt. My fingers ache, but I continue to play. I want to just sit here and play forever.

If someone had checked on Cam maybe, he would be alive. I should have kept calling him; I should have gone looking for him. My playing starts to get erratic and out of tune. I keep playing, I weep harder and harder. My tears are endless. I don't know if this will get any easier because right now it's really hard.

I start playing my cello to the tune of 100 years. I sing along to it. Cam should have lived to 100 years. I know he could have done it; he was health, just not mentally. Maybe for Cam there wasn't help. He probably held on as long as he could have.

I pick up hoot. He smells like Cam. I hug him tightly. I'm glad hoot spent some time with Cam before he was gone. I want to preserve the smell as long as I can, it is a weird thought. Hoot is the last thing I have of didn't give me hoot, but he gave hoot a new meaning. Cam didn't die alone, he had hoot with him. I smile at that semi-twisted thought. Cam will never be alone again.

I think of Cam's siblings and his family. Cam could have just gone home to them. He didn't have to stay in Toronto and played hockey. I would rather a living faraway Cam than a dead one. I try to imagine what was going through Cam's find and my throat starts to hurt from being upset.

I want to throw myself on the floor. I want to go to the green house and join Cam in death. I don't know what I want. I pick up my cello and start playing again. My fingers are bleeding from gripping the bow too tightly. My blood resembles the color of Cam's hockey jersey.

I alternate between crying and playing. Katie comes into my room and hugs me, and we cry together. She tucks me into my bed like I'm a child, I ask her for hoot but she ignores me and puts hoot in my drawer. My first night without Cam I think to myself.