So I happen to think there are way too many Jonas brothers fanfics going on. We need a little more Jiley, like back in the day. And in order to fulfill that desire, I've written you this. Hope you enjoy!- Mikella
It had been three years. And yet, it seemed like it was only yesterday. All of the events that had taken place, the memories that had formed, were crystal clear in my mind. I could recount every word that was spoken, how I felt, the exact outfit I was wearing. But despite all of this, I wanted desperately for it to leave. I had tried, believe me. I had spent hours trying to distract myself, using anything that might even remotely grab my attention.
First off, I enrolled in karate. Hey, I figured, what's the harm? A little exercise throughout the week might do me good since I had just spent the last five weeks wallowing in self pity on my couch. The third day I came out with a fractured wrist. I never went back.
I then turned to books. I had always loved reading as a child but my busy schedule as I got older kept me away. I joined a book club with all of the other old and single women of Paisley, Oregon. I loved the stories and discussions, but eventually I fell too far behind. As a sat down to read the assigned novel, I would find myself distracted, my mind falling back to her. I stopped going to the meetings, not bothering to call.
I finally took up my old passion of acting. The local theatre was doing a version of Peter Pan, a classic. Once again, I could find nothing wrong with that. I auditioned the next month and got the part of one of the pirate thugs. I begged the casting director not to put me in the lead just because of my background and she grudgingly agreed. I didn't want to be the star, even though I was fully capable of carrying the weight of the main role. I just wanted to be involved in the community somehow. And most importantly, keep myself occupied.
My family was ecstatic that I was at last happy again. I noticed it too. At least somewhat. Opening night came and the whole cast was prepared. It wasn't until the final act that everything went wrong. Just as I was about to fall from the ship, having been defeated by the magnificent Peter, I noticed that the loyal stage hands had forgotten to place the soft mat on the floor to protect my fall. But it was too late. My scream echoed loudly in the theatre as I plummeted to what I thought was almost certain death. I didn't die, fortunately, only a concussion. I told the director to get a new pirate.
As you can tell, my desperate attempts were in vain. I found myself once again remembering that day three years ago. I couldn't seem to get it out of my mind. And every time I looked at my son, the memories flashed back. He had her eyes, bright green with a hint of blue and always sparkling. His dark brown hair was thick and full, even as a newborn, just like hers. At times, I could no longer take it. Tears filled my eyes whenever I saw the resemblance. How could she have left me? Why would she do this to me, her husband? Most of all, how could she have done this to her son? She hadn't even gotten to know him yet.
I shoved my hands deeper into my coat pockets. The chilling wind was picking up as dark gray clouds loomed in the distance. I stared at the hard stone for a moment longer. The yellow daisies I had brought rested beside it. They seemed less bright all of a sudden, less cheery as they had been in the grocery store. She had always loved yellow daisies, but now even her favorite flower couldn't supply the happiness I longed for. I sighed. It was of no use. Nothing could bring her back, no matter how hard I tried.
You see, three years ago, my wife was killed.