October 1, 2009
By cheer_mhs BRONZE, Manhattan, Kansas
cheer_mhs BRONZE, Manhattan, Kansas
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The world looks dark and gray through my eyes. I see no color, I see no light. The world is not my playground, like many have said before. I look around and all I see are empty spaces, holes where love and compassion should be. My days are filled with absence and regret. I feel no purpose to live any longer. My body is like a hollow shell, I am there on the outside, but my insides are stone cold. I walk into another dark room, and wait. Suddenly a voice interrupts my sullen thoughts.

“Hello Mark, my name is Dr. Karp.”
He had little hair but his mustache was fully grown. “Let’s begin.” The doctor said. I sat in silence. “We’ll start with the day of your accident, just walk me through it.” He thought I would need a moment to think about it, but I remembered it like it was that morning.

“I woke up, turned to my side, and she was gone. She left me a note saying, lets meet for lunch. I knew exactly where we were going, and what I was going to do.” Sometimes I feel this is the hardest part for me to tell. I needed a moment to relax.

“What were you going to do?” The concerned look on his face frightened me.

“Propose,” I said with a stern voice. “I walked down to our favorite restaurant and picked the best table in the house. I ordered a bottle of champagne and put lilys, her favorite flowers, on the table. She walked in, looking beautiful as always.” Tears came to my dark brown eyes. The meer thought of her blonde curls, rosy cheeks and blue eyes made me cry. I held in the tears because I wanted to seem more masculine in front of Dr. Karp. No one has even tried to reach out to me since that day. That awful, awful day.

“She had this look on her face like, I can’t believe you did this. She sat down looking scared to death. I found the ring. I didn’t really know what to say. My heart filled with joy and I said, did you find the answer?” Every time I get to this part I feel as if I am sitting at the table, starring back into her eyes. “Her only response was, ‘Mark, I am not ready for marriage. My answer is no. I will be moving out of the apartment tonight.’” Tears streamed down my read face. At this point, I am no longer sad. I have flames of anger deep within my heart. I continued with my story. “I just stared at her. No words came to my mind. She walked out of that door, and I completely fell apart.” Tears came rushing down my boiling hot face. I didn’t want to continue with my story any longer, it just reminded me that my life is an empty hole.

“Can you tell me what she was like?” He asked with a caring look on his face.

“She was everything I ever wanted. When I was with her I had no cares in the world. Brooke was my whole life. We talked about anything, and everything.” I started to have flash backs of the moment I met her. She was taking a dance class at the community center. The way she moved captivated everyone’s attention. I had to meet that vision in white. When our eyes met, I could tell she was the one. The one who would pick me up when I was down, the one who would make me laugh, when I started to cry.

“Then what happened,” Dr. Karp asked, “after she walked out.”

“I decided to go for a walk, ya know, clear my head a bit. I found the bench we always used to sit on during our evening walks. I sat there for three hours, not moving a muscle. I went back to our apartment, and all her things were gone. I’d never seen the apartment look so empty. When ten o’clock rolled around, I decided to go up to my parents house for the weekend. I’d been driving for about twenty minuets when I pulled up to a red light. A group of girls crossed the street. Towards the end of the group was Brooke. Her hair was up, and she looked like she had been crying. One of her friends called back to her telling her to keep up with the group, she slapped a fake smile on her face and acted as if she was having a good time. But this did not fool me. I knew Brooke to well to ever think she was doing fine.” I remembered the way she looked that night, baggy sweats and flip-flops, her hair up in a messy bun, her mascara smeared and her eyes were all red and puffy. I wondered if I should have gotten out of my car and talked to her. Maybe things would be different now, if she wasn’t ready for marriage, we could have been in a relationship. It’s to late now. Nothing will ever be the same. That was the last time I ever saw her.

Dr. Karp sat silent for a moment, then replied, “You know Mark, there are other girls out there. I believe everything happens for a reason, and if Brooke declined your proposal, you weren’t meant to be. Even thought Brooke was your first love, and it is hard to get over her, you have to. You can’t end your life because of this. There are other girls out there. You just have to try.”

I’d never thought about it this way. Brooke was my first love. All this time I’d been telling myself she was my only love. I can’t imagine life without her. I need to get up and move on with my life. I still feel emptiness, but in time that will pass. I stood up, thanked Dr. Karp, and walked out of his office. The first thing I see is blonde curls. I stand in confusion for a moment.


“Mark!” She screamed at the top of her lungs. “I’m so sorry about that day, I left because I was scared. The thought of commitment made me run. The only thing I’ve thought about this entire year was you, and how happy we could have been.” I stood in awe. The flash backs of that day she left kept running through my mind.

“Brooke, I feel incomplete without you,” she smiled as I said this, “but how will I know you aren’t going to leave me again?.”

“Mark, leaving you was the biggest mistake of my life. I cried for myself to sleep for months. I thought I’d finally moved on, but everywhere I look I see your warm, smiling face. Can we just start over?” I simply took her hand and smiled.
As we walked away, I saw the colors gradually change from grey to red, black to yellow, brown to pink. My eyes were opened. My heart was filled with love. I am happy for the first time in months.

The author's comments:
I was inspired by a dream

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