In Remembrance Of

September 23, 2011
By Anonymous

Owen: I saw her tear up while she was looking at the picture of Olivia, I saw how she looked around to see if someone had seen her. I don't understand why she wants to act so strong when this is a time for grieving. Why is she acting like everything's fine and this hasn't effected her? I would love to ask her these questions but she only knows me as 'the boy who lives next to Olivia'. She doesn't know Olivia and I had a secret relationship, no one does and I can't tell them now. The service consists of a recap on the freak accident Olivia was involved in. A short description of how the car had spun out of control, hit a street light, and killed Olivia...but thank God her best friend Addison was safe.

Addison: I can't believe they mentioned my name at the funeral. As if I already don't feel horrible enough about this whole situation. All day, all week, I've had people come to my house bringing food and offering their condolences. I appreciate the kind gestures, I really do, but with every person telling me they're sorry for my loss, I believe that I don't deserve to be alive.

The service ended and everyone retreated to the reception hall for food and beverages. I spotted Addison sitting at a table far in the corner. I decided I wanted to talk to her, maybe I'd just start the conversation with apologizing for her loss. Hopefully she didn't think I was weird and creepy. I wandered to the foot of the table she was sitting at, my mouth turned dry and I managed to say, "Hi Addison, I just wanted to tell you that I am so sorry and if you need anything, anything at all I'd be more than happy to do it for the way my name is Owen." She met my eyes once again like she had before when she fake smiled.

Addison: Here we go again, with all this 'I'm so sorry' crap. I couldn't be rude so I said "Oh thanks so much, it means a lot. You live next door to her right?"

He replied with, "Yeah...I did. I think we've met once or twice before."

"I'm pretty sure we have," I said. But all I really remember about this Owen is Olivia telling me she thought he was kind of cute. I looked at him, examined what Olivia might have seen in him. He had shaggy dark brown hair that covered most of his forehead and barely draped over his eyes, it was time for a haircut. His dark brown eyes, almost black, piercing through me like I was translucent. It seemed as he knew something I didn't, like he wanted to tell me something, but couldn't.

I feel like such an idiot, she doesn't want to talk to me, I can tell she's irritated with everyone telling her they're sorry. "Well I guess I'll see you around" as I turned my back and walked off.

Addison: I didn't say a word, I just gave him a sweet smile and watched him leave. I eyed him as he walked over to the beverages and poured himself a tall glass of ice tea. My eyes followed him as he walked back to his table and took his seat. The rest of the reception I mostly stayed sitting at that table, alone, every now and then someone would come up to me and offer their condolences. Sometimes people would sit in the chair besides me and I'd watched them eat, but soon they'd all leave at some point I'd end up at the table unaccompanied.

Two days passed and all I've done so far is read a total of 3 novels. What seemed like millions of people had come over and provided my family with food and almost anything else you could imagine. I visited Olivia's family, which consisted of only her mom and dad. Mr. Ryan had light brown hair, cut close to his head. New wrinkles appeared on his forehead from the past week. Mrs. Kelly's ill fitting dress showed how much weight she had lost from the recent event. Her short blond hair messy and unbrushed, just like Olivia's always was. Olivia's parents are like my second parents, and it pained me to even look at their distraught faces. It killed me inside, twisting my organs with every word they spoke to me. Tears grew larger in my eyes, searching for a way to escape, but I'd quickly sniffle my nose, blink my eyes, and hold it all back.

As I sat on the edge of my bed contemplating to start a new book or to hangout with some friends, I was interrupted. A light knock on my door came from my mom, the door cracked open and she asked to come in. My mom, Kim Fraiser, the wannabe psychiatrist who read self-help books like they were going extinct. She sat beside me on my bed and put her arm around my shoulders. She asked if I was doing okay like a concerned mother would. Of course I wasn't okay, I was far from okay, but there's nothing anyone can do about that. So I told her I was fine, that I'll be okay, and not to worry. We discussed dinner and how I should invite a few friends over, then she left the room and once again, I was alone.

I raised myself from my bed and shuffled towards my mirror, turning on the television on my way. I stood in front of the mirror, my reflection staring right back at me, looking deep into my soul, looking like it knew me better than I knew myself. I examined my long, matted, dirty blonde hair borderline brown now, almost touching my waist, curled up at the ends. I looked at the circles under my eyes that resembled bruises against my fair skin. In the top right corner of my mirror hung a picture of me and my best friend. Olivia Anglehart and Addison Fraiser. And this was the first time I truly thought about her, by myself, in the comfort of my own room, with nothing to hold back.

Owen: My mind races with the thoughts of her, the way she smiled, the way she cried, the way she hugged me, even the way she ate her favorite food, goldfish. Tossing them in the air, trying to get them to land in her mouth. Three months and fourteen days, that's how long we kept our love for each other a secret. Three months and fourteen days of sneaking into each others rooms, three months and fourteen days of blowing off our friends to do "homework", 105 amazing days I received the honor of being in her presence. My heart aches much like an arrow was shot through my chest. The problem is that no one, and I mean no one knows about our private relationship. And all I want to do is tell someone, I want someone to know, I want to be allowed to act as inconsolable as I feel. I thought about her best friend, Addison Fraiser, and I contemplated telling her and maybe we could be sad together because I could tell at the funeral she was holding back and that's not healthy.

The gravel crunched beneath the tires as my 1983 Camaro pulled into the driveway. I hit the stereo nob to turn of whatever pop song was playing. Unbuckled my seat belt, grabbed the casserole my mom made from the back seat, and headed to the front door. Standing in front of the deep red, wooden door I began to think of what I'd say to Addison. My thoughts became jumbled together like a large pile of yarn in a knitter's basket. My hand shook a little when I brought it level to the door bell and pressed it. About a minute passed and then a person was visible through the window, the figure came to the door and proceeded to open it. Her mother greeted me and asked my name because she didn't recognize me. I reminded her of my name and that I was Olivia's neighbor and she acted like she knew me. Then I offered her the casserole my mother had made and with great joy she accepted and asked if I'd like to see Addison. That was basically why I was here, to see her, to tell her. So I said, "yes mam, do you mind?" She told me to hold on for a second and started to walk away, she turned are quickly and said to come inside, then she left the room. I sat on the couch in the living room, observing the Fraiser's home. The large portrait of Addison hanging above the fire place.

Addison: I could hear my mom's footsteps coming up the stairs, promptly I wipe the tears from my face and watched T.V. She knocked like usual and then came in. Keeping my head facing the T.V., trying to hide my puffy eyes and red face. She didn't notice, she proceeded to tell me that at someone was waiting downstairs for me. I asked who and she told me it was some boy named Owen with brown hair. I told my mom I'd be down in a bit, she left my room and closed the door on the way out. Quickly rising from my bed I became light headed and dizzy, I tightly closed my eyes shut and then opened them. I stepped in front of my mirror once again, straighten my close, then I was out the door walking downstairs. I wondered why Owen was here, if he'd just come to say sorry again, or maybe he want to give me something.

Owen: I watched as she trotted down the stairs wearing a large t shirt and running shorts. Her hair was up and it seemed as she had just worked out or something.

Addison: Everything happened in one swift motion. At one point I exited the stair case and a conversation with Owen had started and ended in a blink of an eye. Next thing I knew I was in the passenger seat of Owen's vintage car heading down my driveway.

Owen: Our conversation started and ended within a matter of minutes and soon Addison was in my car sitting next to me. I'm taking her to the park and telling her everything. I'm telling her that Olivia and I were secretly in love and I hope she accepts me telling her this, but someone needs to know.

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