Nancy Hansen Engelsk stil
28-02-2010 til d. 01-03-2010
Whatever Will Be
She had watched him every day for a year now, or she had actually watched him in six years, but the only counted this one. No one understood why. Every day she would watch him leave his house, with a beanie and some aviator sunglasses, hoping he wouldn't get caught. And somehow, he managed do to it every day, relaxing with each step he took.
He was just a pretty boy in some basketball team, two months ago that she would love to meet once and then move on with her life. Just another face in the crowd. Another body that she bumped into on her way to the work. She loved that body. She loved that pretty boy.
He knew she watched him. He, himself, had told her so that fateful day half a year ago- the day where her world became the best and crashed at the same time. She shook her head. No she wouldn't think of it.
As he did everyday he stepped out of his house, looking towards the shadows across the road, searching for something or someone. He caught her and sent her a tired smile, she smiled back, but then did something she never had done before. She stepped out of the shadows and into the light and walked away, leaving a pair of confused and concerned blue eyes behind.
She was alone.
Again.
Alone to deal with the raging thoughts burning their way through her skull and into her memory forever.
She was confused.
Obviously.
She had let her feelings come too close, and was now paying the prize.
She was broken.
Shattered.
Hurt.
Regretful.
Gabriella Montez hared her life.
No one cared.
Understandable.
She stopped.
She wanted this to stop now.
Time swept by, and the sky turned darker by the seconds.
The wind was blowing and Gabriella's hair was flying everywhere in her face.
The water was dark and probably cold and she knew it.
No car was passing by on the bridge she was currently standing on.
Her eyes searched around. Her navy blue jeans felt tighter around her waist by the second, and her Rolling Stones t-shirt felt tighter too.
The emptiness in her chest was burning; a black hole in her. Breathing felt difficult.
Her mind raced a million thoughts a second.
Mistakes.
Millions of mistakes.
She didn't hear the screeching tires of people slamming the breaks as they saw her, standing there on the wrong side of the railing in the rain. She didn't hear the thunder. It was like everything was mute.
This can't be real, she told herself.
Too much hurt!
Too much confusion…
Then she heard him. His almost silent whisper got through to her.
"Don't," he whispered.
"Go away," she told him silently, but she knew he had heard.
"For me?" he whispered as he stood right behind her. She turned to him.
"6 years," she said. Everybody around them watched and a million pictures was taken at once.
"I know," he whispered as he covered her small cold hand, with his big glove clad hand.
"Don't do it again," she whispered and started to climb over with his help. And at that moment he didn't care about the paparazzi, because as she took his hand, and removed her hair from her face she whispered;
"Whatever will be, will be." And for them that was enough.