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Classic Story

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I've always had bad memory.

Always. I forget what I'm wearing, I'll walk in a room and forget what I was going to do, and my mind seems to have a self-erase mode. But I'll never forget him. Never. Time can blur the edges, smooth out the fine details, but I'll always remember. Those dark eyes haunt me, deep and soulful, and they'll remain seared in my memory forever.

I didn't think much of him when I first saw him. Doesn't this kind of story always start that way? He was just another boy. Sure, he played violin like a professional, but is that really a reason to become interested in someone?

~ ~ ~ ~

A year passed. We were in middle school, eighth grade. Suddenly, he was in all my classes. I got to know him, to bond with him. To become friends with this quirky boy whose laugh was abnormally loud, and abnormally contagious. To get closer with this dark-eyed boy whose grins were always wide and bright.

Just friends. That's all we were. That's all I thought of him-- for seven months, that is. Yes, I counted. Seven months, two weeks, and five days. And suddenly, one day, I woke up. Suddenly, he wasn't just a friend anymore.

~ ~ ~ ~

Some people say you can't be friends with the opposite gender without liking them at one point or another.

Is that true?

~ ~ ~ ~

You know the way people are addicted to cola, coffee, cigarettes, and such? I was addicted to his smile. When he smiled, the world seemed impossibly bright. And his laugh... well, I guess you could say it's all biased. After all, can anyone really take the description of someone who likes another person?

He was tall. Taller than me, by an inch or two. Slender, not stick skinny, but slender. I'm no good at descriptions, I could never quite capture his face for you. But his eyes, they were the darkest shade of brown. Always flickering, always warm, always full of... life.

~ ~ ~ ~

Explaining everything would take too long. It was a rocky road, getting to him. Eighth grade passed, we graduated. Ninth grade, I had no classes with him. I was surprised to find that when I saw him in the hallways, or during lunch, I'd get the same butterfly feeling from a year before. Ninth grade was unremarkable, but in tenth, we shared some classes. By then, or rather, somewhere around the beginning of ninth grade, I'd learned he had no feelings for me.
Stories like this always have some sort of conflict, no? I guess this was our major one.

I expected to move on. I mean, if he didn't feel the same for me, wouldn't it only be fair (for both me and him) to move on? Let him have his own life?

But I didn't.

That was a problem too. I didn't move on. I guess it was a blessing, but blessings can be curses in disguise.

Those are the worst kind.

~ ~ ~ ~

Someone, I'm not quite sure who, told me he didn't like that other girl anymore. Around October, right around Halloween, tenth grade. Some other idiot had to raise my hopes and tell me that he liked me.

Me.

Of course, that person was right in the long run. Mid-year, some naughty friend of his pushed him into me. Classic story: I dropped my books, he apologized (with red on his cheeks?) and helped me pick them up.

And told me to meet him at his locker before lunch.

Long story short, he asked me out.

My first boyfriend.

I'm such an idiot.

~ ~ ~ ~

A year passed uneventfully. You could say I loved him more and more as time went on.

Is love the right word?

I've always been insecure about how much I annoy others. I was shy at first, but soon enough he proved to me that I wasn't a nuisance to him.

That he liked me as much as I liked him.

I relaxed, we grew closer. I'd always blush when our friends would lightly tease us, or ask how things were going with those mischievous grins.

And no, this isn't one of those stories were he dumps me. I could handle that. I'm not that weak.
I think.

~ ~ ~ ~

I don't know how long we would've lasted. Our relationship. I liked him a lot, and I think he liked me just as much. I'm sure it would've lasted much more than the short two years I had with him.

Only two years.

Why is fate so cruel?

~ ~ ~ ~

We were perfect for each other.
Fine, that's a little cliche.

A lot.

But really, we were quite similar. Forget the 'opposites attract' saying. We were both awkward, we both had never had other relationships, and we were both interested in similar things.

Does that even matter?

I guess it does. But what really matters is that he's gone from my life now. Like I said before, my story's a classic one.

~ ~ ~ ~

I don't remember the date. I did mention that my memory was bad right? But it was a Wednesday. I've always hated Wednesday's.

I lost him that day.

There was a car.

A freaking car.

Can you guess what happened?

I actually don't know anymore. But I'll tell you anyway.
A stupid car ended it all.

One. Idiotic. Driver.

It's not her fault, though.
That's what I keep telling myself.
It's not her fault.

~ ~ ~ ~

It was dark. The kind of dark that's not really dark, but enough so that you know it's night time. There was a lamp post, the pole a fading black, and the glow golden.

Every detail is crystal clear.
Crystal.

We were in a parking lot.

After the movies.
In the darkness, his hand found mine.
Lacing, shivers, and my heart beating faster.

We were the only ones watching that movie. A handful of others were in different theaters, but we were the only two in that dark room. I already forget which movie. It doesn't matter.
And when we walked out, he let go of my hand. The night air was cool, teasing with my hair. And suddenly, his face was inches from mine.

I'm sure that my eyes widened, and that my face flushed.

His eyes. Dark, dark chocolate. I felt a soft, warm sensation on my lips.

Some people see fireworks during their first kiss. Not me.

Who needs fireworks?

A warm, tingling whispered through my body. My eyes closed, and I felt like melting. If some people see fireworks, then I saw a soft, warm glow.

~ ~ ~ ~

When he pulled back, his face was red. I laughed, which brought a tentative smile to his face.

"Come on!" He called, grabbing my hand and making my face flush. He had a playful, goofy grin. One I'd never seen before. I couldn't help laughing again as I was dragged across the sidewalk.

I was pulled across the street, laughing giddily with him. We never noticed the red light.

Two years.

Two measly years.

~ ~ ~ ~

You know what's going to happen. I was the one who saw the dark shadow. My eyes widened as I realized what it meant.

My hand was still locked with his. Without realizing what I was doing, my other came and pushed him to the sidewalk. A confused expression crossed his face.

A furious horn honked.

And then came the collision.

~ ~ ~ ~

You thought he was going to die, didn't you? He didn't though.

I did.

I don't know how I'm telling you this. I don't know if any one's actually reading this. But this is more for me than anyone else, so it doesn't really matter if any one's reading it.

~ ~ ~ ~

Everything was cold, yet burning. I got hit by a car. A freaking car. I couldn't feel my entire left side. It was completely numb. The right side was burning with ice fire. There was a screech of brakes, and I think I was thrown a couple feet. Nasty red scrapes trailed up my arms and legs. My left leg looked unnatural (maybe it was just me).

He screamed my name. The driver threw open her car door and rushed out, her expression worried. You know how in these stories, the dying person always knows they're going to die? I think I did. It was a stupid car crash, and I was pretty sure I was going to die.
I did, eventually. Do you even want to read on, to find out how it happened? I really don't care if you do or don't.

~ ~ ~ ~

He was screaming into a phone. 911, I'm assuming. The driver, took the phone from him, and in a slightly calmer tone explained things. I couldn't hear that much.

Just a mumbled blur.

He came up to me, and knelt beside me.

~ ~ ~ ~

"Hey..." I managed to say.

"...you idiot," he half-joked. It looked like he was about to cry. But he doesn't cry, so he didn't. I think. "We called the ambulance, they'll be here soon. You okay?"

I considered the feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. "I don't think so..." I muttered. "I don't think so anymore."

His eyes widened in alarm. I love those eyes. I could drown in them forever. "This... is not good," he murmured, more to himself than me.

I'd always told him I was fine whenever he asked that question. This was the first time my answer wasn't positive.

"I can't feel anything..." I told him. Something warm trickled from my eye. A tear. "I'm not going to make it."

"Shush," he put a finger to my lips. "You're going to be fine. I swear." But the worry in his eyes contradicted his soothing words.

I laughed weakly. A burning trail trickled from my mouth. Blood. "I'm not. I know I'm not. I'm sorry."

He brushed the hair out of my eyes fondly, and a warm splash landed on my nose. "Always saying sorry. it's not your fault... why do you always say sorry?"

"I'm not," my voice was growing fainter, "going.. to make... it."

More splashes. Could they be.. tears? "No, you're staying with me." His voice cracked. "Promise me. You're staying, right?"

I coughed. "I'd love to," I managed weakly, rolling my eyes, "but..."

Black shaded the edges of my vision. Everything was tipping, swirling, meshing. I focused on his face, memorizing every detail.

"No," he muttered to himself, "no, no, no, no..!"

"Everything's going black..." I murmur to him. A splash near my mouth. It was salty.

"Stay with me," he held my hand tightly. I concentrated on that, weakly gripping onto his hand. "Stay with me," he begged. I think he saw the look on my face. He gripped my hand tighter. I gently shook it off.

Mustering up my last bits of strength, I lifted two fingers and pressed them to my lips. I rested them there for three seconds, then agonizingly slowly, I lifted my arm up.

Pressed my two fingers lightly against his lips. Ever so softly. His eyes seemed to grow even larger, if possibly. Those eyes...

My hand fell to the asphalt, my control over it gone. I gave him one last smile. Ambulance sirens wailed faintly in the background.

"Sayonara."
~ ~ ~ ~

I told you, didn't I? Classic story.

Girl meets boy.

Girl falls in love with boy.

Girl is devastated when boy likes different girl. But girl waits.

Girl gets boy.

All is happy.

But life isn't a fairy tale.

So girl loses boy. But in this case, boy loses girl as well.
~ ~ ~ ~
I hate tragedies.




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prettysoccer_girl34This teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Sept. 24, 2012 at 9:26 pm:
That was such a suspenseful story! It kept me on my toes at every turn! So beautiful! 
 
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