She's has been waiting for years for him to come back, always imagining how he'll come back. Now, she's given up--or so she says. While training as an Auror, she's written these possibilities down and shared them with her roommate. What follows is what happens after the roommate finishes the story. Open to interpretation; No character definition; One-shot.
It had gotten to the point that she no longer looked at him when she saw him out of the corner of her eye.
She exited the hallway, moving directly into the common area and then into the kitchen, as usual ignoring the figure in the corner of the room, and started preparing a sandwich to take with her for lunch.
Her roommate looked up from her own plate of food, and smiled slightly. "So…what happens next?"
She looked up. " 'scuse?"
Her roommate blinked. "The story—you know, where the guy leaves, promising to come back, and the girl he left behind starts seeing him everywhere?"
Attempting to appear uncaring, she went back to making her sandwich. "What about it?"
"Well, what happens next?"
She turned and eyed her friend carefully. "You read the whole thing?"
"Yeah."
"Well, that's it."
"He comes back?"
"…I left that for the reader to decide."
"I thought you said the story was based on you."
"Somewhat." Why is she being so inquisitive?
"So…what happened?"
"It's in the story."
No it isn't.
"No, it isn't."
What's with the echo? "Yes, it is. I wrote it."
"You never said if he—"
She spun around, eyes blazing. "Alright! You want to know how it ends? She loses it—goes completely insane. No matter where she goes, he follows her. She leaves town, goes to a college in as much of an opposite area from where she grew up as she can find—and she STLL sees him EVERYWHERE—in a crowd of students, one of the ROTC, in the back of her classes, in the corner of her living room!" She jabbed a finger at the boy shed been trying so hard to ignore. "Because some sad part of her heart never grew up, and is still at that park, in the High School Square, on the hill in front of the airport, waiting for him to come back—and he never does; no matter how long she waits or how hard she searches." Sighing, she fought back the tears threatening to prove once and for all just how much of her was still waiting {hoping, wondering why this was happening, then convincing herself to wait, watch, and hope again.}
"I've got to go to class." Snatching her backpack, she all but ran out the door.
Her roommate turned and looked where her friend had pointed, a worried yet somehow apologetic expression across her face.