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Whenever I’m falling down one of Mount Everest’s slopes, somehow I manage to clamber back up with the help of a few sentences on a piece of paper. The same piece of paper I found the day of the accident, and the same piece of paper I lost one year, three months, and twelve days ago. The thing is I really needed that piece of paper at this time in my life.
Two hours ago, my best friend had been hit by a cab and the ambulance had taken him to the hospital just in time. He was critically injured and I needed the feel of that crisp paper under my fingers to get me through this. It sounded stupid, I know. However, I needed that paper and I’d lost it.
So instead of sitting in my apartment, grieving over John, I went to Central Park .The place I always go when I need to get my head in the right place. I didn’t run through, or jog, I barely walked. Stumbling through until I stumbled into someone. Carelessly, I fell backwards a step and saw the person’s face. And of course, who else would it be? ‘The boy in the park’ otherwise known as Skye Turner, stood in front of me.
“…Isla?” God I must have looked like hell if he was looking at me like I’d just scampered up out of the sewers. My hands went to my cheeks, they were wet and sticky. My make-up had been running down my pale skin probably and my dark eyes were most likely, red and swollen. I must say, this was one of the worst times in my life so far.
Somehow I managed to pull on a smile for Skye; he always had for me each time we’d met. Instead of coming out with a clever comment to cheer me up, he engulfed me in his arms. We stood like that while the media took photos and reporters tried to get me to talk. Skye didn’t yell at them, he just kept my face in his chest where they couldn’t see my tears. I never did thank him for that.
Finally when the police came along and ordered them to leave us, they asked Skye to take me inside away from the public’s eye and he agreed. Although, he did keep me out in Central Park for a couple minutes longer, I think.
We talked about nonsense really, anything to get my mind of John until I couldn’t hold it in any longer. My feelings burst over the brim and flooded into the already tense air. “I love you.” Everything went silent. He didn’t say anything. What he did say, I didn’t hear. I didn’t want to hear anything like it at the time because it wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted him to say he loved me too and that he would never leave me but that was ridiculous. We’d only met a couple of times and yeah, we talked by letter and understood each other greatly but I was a mess and he was destined for great things, my great things were slowly dissipating down Mount Everest. Never mind the fact; I’d just broken up with Tom.
“– I’m in love with someone else, Isla.” That was the first time he said my name. It was also the last time he said my name. However, when I finally forced myself to listen to the gibberish stuff coming out his mouth that was what I heard. It was the hardest thing to hear when you’re best friend was almost dead but I had to hear it sometime.
Chapters:   « Previous 1 2 3 4 5 Next »

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Bubbs This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Apr. 8, 2013 at 6:13 pm
Thanks! :) xxx
FallenAngel170198 said...
Apr. 8, 2013 at 9:14 am
Just beautiful :)

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