Epic Fail of a Story

My depression got me to write this story. I didn't use names on this story 'cause I couldn't think of good ones without having to connect the story to my problem. Well, enjoy.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Everyone gathered around the lifeless body of the guy. His blood spilled all over and drenched his clothes. His eyes were left wide open from the shock.

Most of the crowd knew him, significantly a girl he was calling moments before he died. He was running across the street, shouting out her name several times just before a speeding truck that came out of nowhere killed him on impact. Those were his last words, and the girl was the last face he saw. She knew this because they looked each other in the eye one last time when the incident occurred.

Before his death, she was mad at him because for something he did. Something that made her want to forget him. For that, she saw him as a guy pretending to be a friend just to be someone more. In other words, he reduced himself to nothing but a creep.

After his death, she suffered from mixed emotions. Half of her still had the hate for him, not giving a care that he was already dead. The other, guilt.

Word spread around the campus about the incident the following day, about the guy's now-famous last words, and the story behind it. This made the girl feel uneasy whenever she would roam along the halls, with everybody looking at her and talking about her. It seemed impossible for her to be at school without being questioned about the guy.

She later got a text from a classmate. The classmate told her that the dean needed to see her. When the girl asked why, all the classmate could answer was, "Something important."

She arrived in the dean's office. The off-white color of the walls kind of helped her neutralize her emotions and was able to calm her down for the meeting.

The dean greeted her, asked her how she knew the guy, and gave her a blood-stained envelope addressed to her. She kept the conversation short, got the envelope, thanked the dean, and left the room.

One she stepped foot out of the office, the girl ripped open the envelope, and pulled out the piece of paper inside. The paper was also stained in blood, but the writing was still readable.

After reading the letter, tears started running down from her eyes, her hands began to shake. Only then she knew that his love for her wasn't just infatuation. Only then she realized who she was to him. Only then she understood why he couldn't let go of her. But it was already too late -- he's gone, and she couldn't do anything about it anymore. All she could do was bow down her head, and mutter under her breath, "Apology accepted."