Just gonna let this one tell its own story … (:

~I'mAColdOne

He opened his eyes, and for a few blissful seconds, everything was okay. Then reality kicked in. He took in the world with a yawn. The world that had taken everything from him, and given him so much, just to take it away again.

To take her away.

He looked beside him, remembering her there. The dent was still on the pillow, the ruffle still in the sheets. But she hadn't just left five minutes ago. She'd left two years ago, yet every day without her felt like a year for him. She's not coming back anytime soon, he thought. Yet he knew she wasn't coming back at all. He got up with a stretch and slipped his feet into slippers, throwing an old dressing gown over his shoulders. Bleary eyed he made his way downstairs and set the coffee machine up. Everyone else was sleeping. He was alone. He pretended she was watching him, wherever she was. But he knew, she wouldn't remember him. Not now.

He ran upstairs and put on his shirt and tie. He grabbed his bag and left for work. It was a crisp morning, not the usual climate here. Something was happening, he could feel it. For the better, or worse he didn't know. He entered the building, checking in at the reception and heading to his office. He was the head of the towns newspaper. Quite a high job for a 20 year old man. But, everyone knew what he had been through, losing them - her - he had the best experience for this line of work. Of the loss, the destruction, the pain.

Soon enough, six o'clock boomed from the clock on top of the Town Hall. He packed everything into his bag, he looked at the picture of her on his desk. The most recent one of them before she had left.

"Forever." He sighed.

It was still light outside on his walk home. That was good, especially in this town. He scurried home. Head down, well that's what you did in this town. He turned his keys in the door, everyone was out. Alone again. He dumped his bag in the hall and went through to the kitchen where he made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, her favourite. He chugged the milk from the carton, and he could almost hear her silvery laugh, she always laughed when he did this, he sighed. He missed her so much.

He headed to his room and locked his door. If everyone else came home, he didn't want anyone else to see this. From under his bed, he pulled out a backpack. It was tattered and torn and there were dark splodges of things he didn't want to think about. He zipped it open and pulled out all the pictures, the letters, the memories. He laughed as he looked through them, him with his bowl haircut courtesy of Mom's bad hairstyles, at her with the gap in her teeth when they fell out. To one they took a few weeks before she left, it was them together, he had the cell phone in his hand taking the picture and the other hand around her waist. She had one round his waist too, the other pulling his face to hers, where they stood blissfully forever, kissing. He loved her kisses.

He picked one up from when he was eight, and she was six. He remembered back to that day.

He blinked through his eight year old eyes. He really liked her. She was the most awesome girl he had ever met. It was valentines day, she was his valentine. His best friend urged him on and he stumbled forwards towards her.

"Hi." He said, all nervous.

"Hi." She said and grinned the biggest smile ever, she had a tooth missing, but she looked too cute.

"This is for you," And he urged a card and a plastic rose to her. "Happy valentines day."

"Thanks!" She said and jumped up from the bench to hug him. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and they walked around the playground holding hands for the rest of the day.

But, this was now. And she was gone. He turned to her side of the bed. She had her own room here, but she preferred to stay with him. He didn't object. He lay down, and looked at the empty space. His mind was filled with thoughts.

She must be older now, about eighteen. Maybe she got taller, she was always tiny. Her hair might be longer. She must be even more beautiful now. I wonder what she'd say if she saw me. Probably nothing. She doesn't remember me anymore. Oh, but I remember her …

And he did. He remembered how she looked the last day he had seen her. He remembered her tiny frame, her cute little nose. He remembered her big brown eyes. Her hair when she woke up, all tousled and funky. He remembered how she talked, how she moved, how she smelled, how she smiled. He remembered that he loved her so much, every time he saw her, it hurt him. How he always wanted to protect her, from everything. Never wanting to let her go.

He hadn't realised the time, when a knock at his door sounded and his best friend's voice said "Dude, you coming down? Its nearly 10."

"No." He said back, hoarsely. He was about to start crying again. It was hard remembering this stuff. It was hard remembering her.

And for Shane, it was hard to remember her, to remember Claire.

Please review? (: xx