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The Decision

I put my hand out in front of my face and stare at the glistening object on my finger. Its glossy finish and vibrant colors will grab anyone’s attention. It’s the color of a ruby and has the shine of a diamond with a hint of fiery orange that makes its way to the naked eye. The ring is significant; well it was. It represented love and a yearning for the future. But now, it represented nothing but the past. Something that is dead and gone…never to be revived.

As I stand on the edge of the bridge, I look down at the furious waves beneath. I watch them throw themselves against the helpless rocks. Their powerful roar is able to be heard from miles away. The apparent might of the ocean was demanding attention.

As much as it pains me, I rip the ring off of my finger. It was the only thing we had left. It held memories that were abandoned in the past; forgotten, and replaced. I look at the ring one last time, and without thinking, throw it into the ocean. I imagine the waves forcefully pushing the ring against the rocks, and crushing it between watery fingers. I imagine the blood red and burnt orange making their way through the infinite depths of the ocean. I cry tears of sadness and joy. I’m glad I let go of the past, but now I must face the future and the unknown without him by my side.

My eyes swell up and heavy tears roll down my cheeks. Ironically, it starts raining buckets just as I begin to cry. I guess God is just as sad and p***ed off as I am. As I walk on the cobblestone towards 8th Street, I can hear my flip-flops slapping the wet ground beneath. I’m alone in this world of darkness. The only light I see is the one coming from the tall light post hanging above my head. It flickers three times before it goes out; I counted.

I walk onward and think about what I’ve done. I regret that I didn’t throw him and the ring away sooner. I was too afraid of the unknown, and wasn’t smart enough to try to face the possibilities. Nothing hurts worse than betrayal and a broken heart.

As I make my way past the 7-11, I’m startled by a voice behind me. I recognize him and realize that it’s Brandon from my math class. He’s always liked me and he’s the most annoying kid in school.

“What are you doing out here?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m walking, genius.” I say rudely.

“Woah, there’s no need for hostility, Missy. What happened to love?” he asks playfully.

“Don’t worry about it. There is none,” I stare him up and down, “Brandon, take that dumb grin off your face and go home. I don’t have time to be wasting on you.” I began to walk again, trying to avoid having to talk to him any longer, but he followed me anyway. I try to tune out his annoying whistling and horrible singing, but it was impossible. I let him sing and whistle his way down the street until I couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Shut up!” I yell. The angry tone in my voice scares him. It wasn’t meant to come out that way.

“Look, I’m sorry Casey. I didn’t mean to be such a-¾”

“Nuisance,” I say, “You’re being a nuisance. Please, just go.”

He gets a worried look on his face then says, “OK then, no prob. See ya later.” He awkwardly stands there for a couple seconds. I guess he’s waiting for me to say something, but I don‘t. He gives me a hesitant wave. I just stand there and stare at him with a blank look on my face. Soon enough, he makes his way up the street. He pulls his hood tighter over his head and peers over his shoulder to look back at me. He seems lost and confused.

I continue to walk, but I can barely see because I‘m squinting my eyes so that rain won‘t get in them. The tears block my vision and all I see is a misty cloud. I keep my head down. I mumble to myself as I walk. It got to the point to where I don’t even know what I’m saying. I stomp through the street madly as if I was trying to squish everything beneath; even the pavement. With every step I take, the water splashes. I’m soaked. I occasionally look up and notice that everyone driving and walking past me, looks at me with worried looks on their faces. I must look like a question mark searching for an answer.

When I finally make it home, I am welcomed by madness. My younger sister is riding on my brother’s back like a horseback rider. My other sister is behind him slapping his butt with a fly swatter, “Faster, faster!” she says. My mother looks at me and asks what’s wrong. I just tell her that I had a bad day.

I walk to my room and lock the door. This is the only place in the house for me to escape everyone around me. I look down at my finger, but I remember that the ring no longer belongs to me. It belongs to the ocean. Now the waves own our memories. The carnival, the school dance, the party, everything. I sit in silence and the memories overwhelm me. Yes, he was an obsessive jerk, a liar, and a cheater, but I miss him. I miss him, and I don’t know why.

The ring was the only thing I had left of him. Even though what we had seemed to be dead and gone, it wasn’t gone completely. It remained alive with that ring. Now since that’s gone, we are dead…





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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

inksplatters21 said...
Aug. 19, 2010 at 3:10 pm

Interesting piece, and so many people can identify with needing an object to remind them of someone.  Nice work

Would you mind reading/commenting?  Thank you

 
LuvKirstyn14 replied...
Aug. 19, 2010 at 9:24 pm
thank u ! sure, i will... check out my other pieces too plz :)
 
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