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Living

The young woman sat in the corner by herself. Everything had just changed drastically. Her boyfriend had died a month before her birthday. No words could express her anger, sadness, and fear. No person could count the tissues she used to wipe away her tears. No one could understand her pain. The woman now sat in the corner, alone, in her apartment, which they both had dreamed they would get out of, and move into their own house. They had had their lives planned out. They would get married after college, move into their own house and settle down. He would be a professor, and she would be a ballet teacher. Their love would only continue to grow, more and more pure, like the day they first met. They had met freshman year at Northwestern. They had both gone there for the same reason, to start over, a new life. They wanted to get away from their high school and families, not to leave them behind, but to put them on pause while they explored the world. They both loved the view the campus had of Lake Michigan. The breeze off of the lake is what made their decision final. Of course, they did have much to study Northwestern was not a school that could be taken lightly in studies, but that is exactly what started their story. The woman was studying lake one night in the library, she had a big test tomorrow, and wanted to make sure that she got an A. Her bright green glasses almost glowed in the darkness around her. Page after page she flipped, cramming every aspect of the chapter into her head. After two hours after she had begun studying, the words began to blur, and the lamplight had grown dim. The woman’s eyelids fluttered, and soon collapsed, she had fallen asleep. She was not alone in the library the young man was there as well. They were in the same class, but had never seen one another. He was studying on the other side of the bookshelf, one unknown to the other. He had finished studying for the night and began to gather his books when he saw the dim lamplight on the other side of the bookshelf. His curiosity pushed him around the bookshelf to the source of the light. At that moment he fell in love. The young woman’s breath was slowed and her eyelashes moved every now and then. Her dark brown curls fell around her making her skin glow white. The young man watched her with admiration. He would have watched her all night if he could have, but that wouldn’t help their story. The woman’s eyes fluttered open, blinking rapidly to make her vision clear, and the first thing that came into view, was the man. She wondered if she was still dreaming, she rubbed her eyes and looked again. She felt embarrassed now, how long had he been watching her sleep? She clumsily gathered her books while explaining her slumber. The man chuckled at her attempt to set things straight and helped her pack her books. She looked up at him through her green glasses and smiled, stealing his heart. They walked out of the library, talking about the test tomorrow. It would be easier now, knowing they had support from each other. The next day after their test, the two met up again. They discussed their answers and argued about their reasons. The young man had become quite affiliated with the woman. He wanted to see her every waking moment of the day. The woman was flattered but tried to explain that she had no time, and that she needed to study. The man did not take no for an answer, so he proposed that if he got one hundred on the test, that she would agree to see him. She accepted the challenge. The next two days couldn’t pass soon enough, until finally the day came. The teacher handed out their tests and the woman flipped hers over, she had made a ninety-nine. She quickly looked over her shoulder at the man he was flipping his paper over. His face lit up like the Fourth of July. The woman shook her head smiling to herself. The man rushed over to her and told her of his achievement, she nodded and smiled. From that day on they would see each other every day. The days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, which turned into years, and during that time the couple had not been apart. It was now two months after they had graduated, a month before the woman’s birthday. The couple had planned to get away and fly to Australia, to start over again, together. They would find their jobs there and settle down happily together, but there dream was not to come true. It was the day of their flight the plane had just taken off when it began to malfunction. The left wing’s jet had turned off and the plane was spiraling down to the ground. The man grabbed the woman and held her tight, close to his chest. The plane crashed into the ground, rocketing plane parts everywhere. The woman felt a breeze above her, her eyes fluttered open like that night so long ago. Her eyes found the man’s face. She shook him, calling his name. She placed her hand on his chest and felt a sharp point, her eyes shot down finding the tip of the armrest. It had broken into pieces in the crash and had pierced him through his heart. The ambulance came and took him to the hospital, but the man had already died. The woman cried and cried, for weeks, using over a thousand tissues. She cursed at the man, blaming him for holding her, and then she cried because she had loved him, and then feared the days following, being alone. Their apartment seemed spacious now, too empty. It had always been crammed with books and clothes and boxes, but now the room was silent and empty. Her family cried with her, but not as hard and as mournful. She was alone now, for the first time in years, she lamented for weeks until her tears had ran out. Everything she ate now was insipid, everything she saw even if it was embellished with jewels and flowers seemed boring, everything she heard was tuneless and melodic, everything she thought was obscure. Her birthday soon came and she turned twenty-three, alone. She later moved to Australia, leaving all memories of him behind, only to find new ones. She realized she was now living for him, seeing the world with eyes unclouded by hate. She would now reach out and love every day for him. She soon would not be alone though, because in nine months, she would have a little piece of him to hold onto, even if the hands were small.





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