She didn't care about hope. What she wanted to know was why. Nothing to her deserved any hope in this world without him. He would always be the one to assist her in these situations. Just like that, he was gone.

Jordan Walters paced back and forth under the rustling trees. His tombstone was only a few feet away. The soaked tissues had already started to make an awkward lump in her front jacket pocket, and her nose had just faded back from the cherry red it once was. It had already been a year, although to her it felt just like yesterday. The cheap cards, quick hugs, and the over used comfort words exhausted her. All she really wanted was for him to come back, even though she knew it was plain preposterous. She had seen the car, totaled and crushed like a wad of paper. He had no chance.

That driver. That reckless, careless, and drunk driver. After the accident he was perfectly fine, just harboring superficial bruises and bumps. She had heard him apologize, but she knew what he was really worried about was the damage on his Mercedes Benz. It was the first thing he inquired about after being handcuffed.

He had been immediately sent to the ICU, fighting for his life. Jordan arrived at the hospital to a sight of a life support machine and a slow beating heart monitor. His head was tightly bandaged, while multiple wires were pricked into his body. Jordan had stayed right next to him, no matter how weary she was. Sadness overtook her as the she overheard the surgeon whisper the words, "I'm sorry" to her mother. Jordan's spirits died as he slowly stopped breathing.

Her mother had mourned, even after the funeral. Then she met Bill. Bill, the hot shot marketing director at EMCO enterprises. Her mother acted from then on as if nothing had occured. Her mother was oddly out more now, flaunting her ridiculously priced engagement ring. From this Jordan felt alone, no one to relate to. Jordan had lost hope, as quickly as she lost him.

Now she wasn't the most sensitive person in the world, but he could get through to her. Her smarty remarks and ignorant techniques that usually sent people off shaking their heads didn't bother him the least. He had suprised her with his careful, yet potent set of words. Even though his gentle words would vary at the different situations she would get herself into, the message was usually to have hope. "Have hope for what dad?" Jordan yelled at the biting wind, eyes dampening with tears. He was never coming back, what hope was there?

She recalled what he would always say. The words "think about it" seeped deep inside her thoughts, abruptly calming her to the point where she could think. She inhaled and exhaled, realizing she was hoping for tommorow to be a better day. She discovered she was hoping for her mom to realize her distress. Most of all, she knew that she was hoping for some way to cope, and get over his death.

"With hope comes positivity, and with positivity comes productivity", Jordan whispered, ambling back home. For once she felt truly happy, and had hopeful thoughts. She grinned. Her dad was right all along.