True Love Is Not Real Unless It Is Returned
Just try it, whether you hate Stefan or Love him. I just thought I'd try a little something new. But read and review, please.
1. The Boy with the Tragic Heart
The world is not a warm loving place, and I've known that for quite some time. And it hurts, watching things go on around you that you can't prevent. Like watching people you love suffer, like I see so often. Personally, I've never experienced death, but people I know have. It's one of the worst things, sitting there, wanting to do something, but knowing that there's really nothing you can do to make it better.
I've lived for a year like that, as the friends I have, lose people they are close to. My best friend lost both her aunt and her uncle, who took care of her in the day time since she was a small baby, every day while her parents worked late into the night. Sometimes, she'd tell me that she was closer to them than to her own parents.
Worse for her, was the fact that her parents refused to take both her cousins in after all their parents had done for her, therefore leaving her cousins in the hands of their immature aunt on their mother's side.
And then my ex-boyfriends mother died, which was one of the hardest things for me to watch. To watch him struggle to keep himself together, because he was supposed to be strong, a man. Even harder was the effect the loss had on our relationship, it was what caused him to have to break up with me, and move far away.
But all of that was months ago, and now it's April. The weather transforms itself from either rain or sun, and school is in full swing, all of us nervous for upcoming finals. "Did you do your math homework?" My best friend whose Aunt and Uncle had died asks. She has brown hair that flows to her waist and luminous blue eyes.
"No," I say, shutting my locker. Just then, I see a boy walking down the near empty halls, settling his eyes on Mr. Saltzman's classroom door. "Isn't that you cousin's boyfriend?"
"Was." She states, her voice sullen, "Remember?" I remember what she'd told me yeaterday, that her cousin was attacked by an animal and died of blood loss.
"Sorry." I think for a second, looking at the sad image of the boy with brown hair and green/brown eyes, "His name is Stefan, right?"
"Yeah." She says, sighing. I leave her behind, taking a deep breath as I walk silently over to him.
"Stefan, right?" I ask politely.
"Yeah…" He says, as if sidetracked.
"I'm so sorry for you loss. I'm Alyssa." I say, bowing my head a little.
"Thanks, look, I can't talk right now. Do you know where Mr. Saltzman is?" His voice is rushed, and saddened, barely above a whisper.
"I think he called in to have a substitute." I say.
"Thanks," He says, walking away.
"Wait!" I inner curse myself for calling after him the second he turns around, because I don't know what to say next, "Umm…if you ever want to talk, I mean…Lucy and I," I say, gesturing to his dead girlfriend's cousin, "We'd love to talk to you, about her, I mean."
"Huh?" Lucy asks, hearing her name, "Hey, Stefan." She say's waving.
"I can't." He says, shakily, "I'm leaving tomorrow; I just had to talk to Mr. Saltzman before I left."
"Well, if you're going to come back tomorrow to talk to him, then maybe-" I don't know why I'm pestering him, for he clearly just wants to be left alone.
"No, sorry." He says, a smile light on his lips, but not a real one. Just a polite one, as if he's so exhausted of life, but wants to still be kind. "I had to speak to Mr. Saltzman today. I already have a plane ticket for tomorrow, and I'll be leaving to go to Italy, so…"
"Here." I say, walking over to him. There's a pen, a sharpie in my hands. I write on his hand my phone number, "Just take it, and call. You don't have to be all alone."
"Okay." He's shocked, clearly, it's as obvious as day. But still, I turn away, a smile on my face.
"Let's go, Lucy." I say, grasping her hand to get her to walk with me, for she's standing in the middle of the hall with as much shock on her face as on Stefan's.
"Hello?" I ask, answering my phone that night. It's already eight o'clock in the evening, and I've already done my homework, taken a shower and braided my golden blond hair so that It'll be all wavy in the morning.
"Alyssa?" The voice sends chills down my spine, my eyes popping wide open.
"Stefan?" My tone is harsh, for I'm severly surprised that he's calling me. I smile after a moment, happy, "You called." I say, filled with gratitude.
"Yeah…I wanted to take up your offer, to talk about her."
"Okay. What do you want to talk about?" I think about it, realizing after a moment of silence that he probably doesn't know what to talk about. My tone turns softer, as I just realize that I'm talking to someone about their very recently deceased love one, "What did you love the most about her?"
He sounds as if he'd fighting off tears as he speaks next, "I loved her smile, her laugh, the most. I tried to do whatever I could to see her smile." His voice, his words make me smile, for that's one of the sweetest, yet tragic things I've ever heard.
"That's really sweet." My eyes fill up with tears, rememebering that she's dead, and I can hear just how much he loved her, and it's the most saddest of things I've ever heard. "What else?"
"I wanted to do whatever I could to make her happy, to not have to see the tears running down her face, or that sad, nervous laugh she gave when faced with tragedy after she stopped crying. And to never get the opportunity to see her smile again, to only see her once again, I don't know how I can stand the weight of that thought anymore."The tears are pouring down my face now, as I hear him say those words.
"I don't know if there's anything I can say, or do to make it feel any better. And I'm not going to promise it'll get better, or easier, because I honestly don't know that. But I can say that I won't lie and say it will. And I can try and help you, if you'll let me." I say, not knowing how to find the right words. Reaching for them, but not finding.
"I think just having someone to talk to is a big help….can I talk to you again? Tommorow at school?"
"Tommorow? But I thought you were leaving?" I ask, confused.
"Yeah, "He says with a small laugh, "I changed my mind."
"Sure. Tommorow then." And I let out a sigh, "Goodnight, Stefan."
"Goodnight, Alyssa, sleep well."
Hanging up , I feel the tears run down my face in sadness, I feel a connection I'd made within tragedy, one of helpfulness, and feeling proactive in disaster for once. And I love it, not feeling so helpless, like nothing I did mattered. I did matter to someone else now, and I'm determined to remain a help.