Missing story

October 16, 2008
What I thought was my life had betrayed me. As I climbed the stairs every step took a memory.
Step, her wavy curls of red hair.
Step, those deep blue eyes that looked like the ocean.
Step, the small freckles on her nose.
Step, her smile.
Step, her holding me.
Step, me kissing her.
I was afraid now. What would come next? I took a breath then stepped again.
Step, our first date at the movies.
I started up the stairs quicker.
Step, our six-month anniversary.
Step, my birthday.
I had reached the top.
Step, the night I went to pick her up from work and she stood outside lip locking with her manager.
And I felt myself break again. I barged through the door to the roof of the high school. The lock had been broken but all the staff went about like it had been fixed. There I stood at the edge, watching the people eat their lunch. Then they watched me. 200 people standing and watching me as I stood. Death is like a carnival or a circus and I’m the daredevil giving them their show.

Then someone pushed through the crowd. The wavy curls that use to captivate me. She looked up at me in horror.

“Kyle, what the hell are you doing?” She screamed. I smirked.

“I’m breaking up with you!” I shouted back. Then I slowly walked back inside with the adrenaline of the dare.

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