I had this idea this morning (well, morning for me,) and I was like, "yes!" But I was too lazy to write it until now. Sue me. I don't have money, but I can pay up in stuffed animals.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this one shot except for the idea. WAIT. This is the first story I've written ever that didn't have an (named) OC. Oh. My. God.
DEDICATION: This is dedicated to Newtown, Boston and Texas. May the lives lost rest in peace.
Warning: Very sad.
Kim
I'm back. I've been away for almost a year now. Where? Boston. Why? Dad's job transfer. And now I'm back because... because of the horribleness of the Boston Marathon.
I'd been filming the end of the 26 mile run when I caught the blast across the road on my camera. Immediately, I put the camera back into my bag and hopped the fence. Running to the other side, bypassing the finishing runners, I tore down the barricade and began to help, alongside a man with a cowboy hat. Then I heard the second blast, and turning my head, I saw my dad running towards the site of the second blast to help.
As soon as the injured and dead were transported away, I stopped. I saw the debris flying everywhere. What had caused the explosion? Then I saw something. Carpenter nails. Unless one of the spectators were going to work later, which was highly unlikely, almost completely unreasonable and impossible, they must have been in the bomb. To maximize injury.
"Excuse me, sir?" I stopped the police officer who was in charge.
"Yes miss?" He asked me seriously. "Are you injured?"
"No sir," I said immediately. "I was helping move the injured. But sir, don't you think those nails over there," I pointed, "could be a component of the bomb?"
The police officer started. "I believe they could. Thank you miss," he smiled. "I will make sure to inform the public of your keen eyes."
"You don't need to, sir," I shook my head. "I just wanted to help."
And with that, I ran to find my dad.
After the events, we were under lockdown. I got several texts from my relatives, asking if I was okay, to which I replied that I was fine, just sorrowful for the lives lost. Three may seem like a small number, but when you apply that to the loss of life, it means so much more. An eight year old, a graduate student, and a golden-hearted 29-year-old. Gone. Although I never knew them, I cried. I'm sure I wasn't the only one.
"Sweetie," I looked up to see dad. "We're moving when this is all over."
"Where?" I asked immediately.
"Texas," He replied. "Your aunts and uncles and cousins are there."
A while after, we heard about the fertilizer plant explosion in West Texas, in the town my relatives were. No one was injured, thankfully, but we had to add the 35 or more lives lost in that explosion.
Newtown, Boston, West Texas. When will it end?
"I guess we can't go to Texas." Dad said somberly.
"Where to now?" Was my new question.
"Seaford."
As soon as the second suspect was captured, my dad and I packed our bags and left quietly, without another word as the college students were in the streets shouting "USA! USA!"
And here I am, unpacking my stuff in the house I lived in before, trying not to cry.
"Kim." I turned around to see Grace there. "I may have not been the nicest friend you've had, but this is just horrible. You didn't have to go through that, especially not alone, with just your dad who understood but had to go work. Come here and give me a hug," She invited, opening up her arms.
Immediately, I ran into them, and her tiny arms wrapped around me. "Why?" I sobbed.
"That's the hardest part to understand," Grace cooed. "What has become of humanity."
"It was hard enough with Connecticut," I cried.
"And now all these new waves of pain," Grace finished. "You always were sensitive to these kinds of things. And now I completely understand. Shh, Kim..."
As I slowly stopped crying, Grace patted my back.
"Thanks, Grace," I sniffled, wiping my eyes.
"Come to the river with me," she said. "We're going to set a boat down the river with a memorial for them. And then you can go to the dojo and spend time with the boys."
"Okay," I gave her a weak smile.
Grace and I watched as the polished wooden boat we'd slaved over to make it perfect floated down the river, with the sail that said, "To all those lost in Boston and Texas." A tiny, solitary candle practically lodged in the floor of the raft flickered, its light comforting and reassuring, as if it was telling me, "They are safe, and will never hurt again." That alone made me tear up.
"Look sharp," Grace whispered as she wiped the tears from my face. "We're going to the dojo."
"Hey guys," Grace smiled as we entered. Rudy was teaching Eddie, Jerry and Milton how to perform a popular Bobby Wasabi move. I noticed they all were black belts. Had it really been that long?
"Hey..." They all started, but stopped when they saw me. "Kim."
"Hey guys," I said, my voice wavering. Immediately, they rushed to hug me.
"We missed you!" Jerry cried.
"We were so worried!" Milton exclaimed.
"It was different without you!" Rudy sobbed.
"Are you okay?" Eddie asked.
"Not really," I replied, pulling slightly away.
"We know," they said simultaneously, even Grace, and then they all gave me another hug.
It was like that I was comforted. But soon, I found myself missing a pair of arms.
"Where's Jack?" I asked. Their faces immediately turned somber. "Is he okay?" I asked.
"Not really," Milton answered, eyes downcast. "He really took your leaving hard. He nearly turned to mush on us. He tried to stay strong, but soon, he just... collapsed. He really misses you."
"What...?" I whispered in shock.
"When he heard about Boston, he came rushing in, eyes bloodshot, hair wild, and started crying hysterically. He was so worried you were injured, or worse dead," Eddie mumbled.
"He never comes to the dojo anymore," Rudy added.
And then I was off, ignoring my friends' cries for me to come back, and ran towards Jack's house.
"Kim!" Mrs. Brewer said in shock as she opened the door to see my panting figure. "You're back."
"How - Is he - Where's Jack?" I gasped out.
"In his room -" she never got to finish her sentence as I was already rushing upstairs.
I stopped myself at his doorway. There he was, laying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, fingers tracing swirls on the bedsheets. Looking around, I saw several photos of Kim, some with broken glass, some clear and unbroken. His homework lay dutifully finished on his desk.
"Jack." Jack started at my voice, and turned his head to his right to see me standing there. His eyes were actually bloodshot, his hair as wild as my friends described. "Jack, this wasn't the way I left you."
"No, it wasn't," Jack croaked, his voice hoarse, "But the way you left me was just a facade."
I said nothing, just let the tear building up in my eyes fall.
Jack stood up slowly, as if he was a rusty, old, forgotten toy robot. He approached me and extended a hand towards me. I let him caress my face, enjoying the comfort and gentleness it brought. "You're real," he whispered. "You're not a figment of my imagination. You're not a dream. You're not a nightmare."
"Why would I be a dream?" I asked immediately. Then it hit me. "Jack, I need to tell you something," I continued.
"What?" Jack snapped angrily. "That you don't want to be near me anymore? That I should go die in a hole? That you have a boyfriend?"
"What- What are you talking about? Jack I was going to say -" I tried to say, but Jack cut me off.
"Screw yourself Kim. I don't want to talk to the girl who broke my heart."
"JACK!" I yelled. Grabbing his wrist, I pulled him down to the music room, where light from the dozens of windows spilled in.
"Ah!" Jack flinched, instinctively covering his eyes.
"When was the last time you looked directly into the sunlight?" I asked Jack incredulously.
"You're not supposed to look into the sun, Kimberly," Jack half sneered.
"I didn't mean the sun, Jack, just the sunlight. When have you stood outside and looked at things on a really sunny day without your sunglasses?" I asked, tears flooding my eyes again.
"The day you left. That's when I did all that crap you were talking about," Jack growled.
I was struck. So long? "Wh... Why? Why did you try to hurt yourself this way?" My voice broke painfully.
"Because I love you."
I blinked.
"I love you, and you left, and that hurt. You didn't have to go, but you did, and I realized I really loved you. I couldn't last a day in the sunlight, because it reminded me of you. I avoided a lot of places and things because they reminded me of you: the dojo, the arcade, Falafel Phil, the mall, the sunlight, the guitar, dances, your locker, everything." Jack said somberly. "And now you're here, to rub a thousand tons of salt into my wounds.
I was completely speechless. My leaving had caused all this? How do I fix this? Then my eyes landed on the piano.
"If you won't talk to me after this, then at least listen to this," I told him, sitting on the piano. I hadn't played it in a while, but a certain song came to my mind, and my fingers began to play.
Seems like it was yesterday when I saw your face
You told me how proud you were, but I walked away
If only I knew what I know today, ooh, ooh
I would hold you in my arms, I would take the pain away
Thank you for all you've done, forgive all your mistakes
There's nothing I wouldn't do to hear your voice again
Sometimes I wanna call you but I know you won't be there
Oh, I'm sorry for blaming you
For everything I just couldn't do
And I've hurt myself by hurting you
Some days I feel broke inside but I won't admit
Sometimes I just wanna hide 'cause it's you I miss
And it's so hard to say goodbye when it comes to this, ooh
Would you tell me I was wrong? Would you help me understand?
Are you looking down upon me? Are you proud of who I am?
There's nothing I wouldn't do to have just one more chance
To look into your eyes and see you looking back
Oh, I'm sorry for blaming you
For everything I just couldn't do
And I've hurt myself, oh
If I had just one more day
I would tell you how much that I've missed you
Since you've been away
Oh, it's dangerous
It's so out of line
To try and turn back time
I'm sorry for blaming you
For everything I just couldn't do
And I've hurt myself
By hurting you
(Hurt by Christina Aquilera)
I finished the chord with a wavering note. Then I stood up and turned around. I saw Jack slowly remove his hands from his eyes, squinting in the sunlight. I approached him, stopping when I was a mere inches away.
Silence and staring. I got lost in his dark brown orbs, and I could see the hurt that wracked him this past year, but I could see remnants of his old self in there. He was still the boy I'd fallen hopelessly in love with last year.
"Je t'aime," I said.
Jack started, but then, a slow smile crept up on his face. "Te amo."
And then I closed the gap between us and kissed him.
This has got to be my most emotional story yet. And I got it all in... 2,107 words. Phew...
~squirmyorchid~