Title: Gone
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Jess is gone and Rory blames herself. R&R
Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls.
AN: It's my debut into the world of fanfiction and I'd definitely appreciate some feedback, some encouragement so take a little time and drop me a quick line. Love it? Hate it? I'm not a mind reader, u tell me!!!
A sad smile played on my lips as a tear rolled down my cheek and fell into the water creating ripples. That's all that he did for my life, create ripples, good and bad. The hard, rough wood of the bridge creates lines in my hands as I grip the edge. He's gone, he's not here and more tears fall, more ripples moving out wards getting bigger, joining together. He's gone, I think. I can't take thinking about him leaving; the story plays through my head like and endless movie, a comedy, a drama, a dramedy. I'd written everything down in my journal, which I was holding in my lap. I opened it to the first entry and begin to read.
March 4/ 2001
He thinks my life has been easy. Sure I grew up in a bubble, Stars Hollow, the perfect little town detached and isolated from the "real world." My life wasn't easy, maybe I don't know what its like to wonder down dark streets at night, see people get shot but I know what it feels like to be hungry. I know what it's like to wear worn and old clothing and to scrounge for food. I know what it's like to live without TV, water, telephone, electricity, running water. My memories are solid in my mind, every incident chasing the next in a never-ending PG rated movie. I want to be able to talk to him without being judged. I want to here about his experiences, the events that intrinsically shaped the complicated person he is today. The complicated mind, the unsmiling expressionless face, the eyes that give away absolutely nothing, leaving everything to the imagination, the wall he's put up to save himself. The mouth that speaks words and phrases that leave me thinking until the stars are overhead, thoughts with a strange amount of depth and profound application.
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That was my first thoughtful entry about him, after we shared the picnic, I'd written about him coming here, to Stars Hollow, but never anything I felt, the strange bottomless feeling whenever I looked inspired me, as my anger at him. Anger. I don't know why. I understood a lot of things; most things but I never understood him. He came into my life like a tornado surprising me and scaring me. We were one in the same appreciating books many people will never read in their lifetime. I flip through a few more entry's about Lane and consequently quite a few arguments with Dean. As I flip I pause glancing at the words, angry about how much I depended on him, It's kind of depressing to read, so I flip to another entry and read.
March 19/2002
I want to go into his mind and discover all the things that he left behind. I want to know who gave him his first book, the reason why he was sent here, I want to see the "Jess movie." I don't want to see the family rated Dean movie that consists of a booster shot and a runaway dog. I want to be able to express my opinion, not be turned around and sent into the kitchen with a smile and a chuckle, I won't be ignored. I won't be Donna Reid. I want to be swept up in a whirl wind debate about the language used by Ernest Hemmingway, the true message conveyed in "Howl," (which he so honestly conveyed in his notes.) I want to yell out my opinion and have the entire moment shattered by the subsequent make-out sessions. I want to talk about books and censorship. I know that the definition of censorship is even too large for Dean to comprehend. So my next question is "is wanting someone else a sign of not loving someone? Is it possible to love someone and hold feelings for another?" Which brings me to the second question that has plagued me since my brooding black haired buddy showed up. "Did I ever really love Dean, or did the statement stem from desperation, to stall him, keep him from the abrupt exit that I knew was going to occur if I didn't say something. I liked the security I felt with him. So did I really love Dean? Ever? I don't now.
****
I smile remembering the night I wrote that entry. I had discovered so much after hanging out with him. I knew that I couldn't hurt Dean though. I didn't want to hurt him, I don't like hating people, but now I hate myself because Jess is gone, and it's because of me. It's my fault. I flip through another week of suffering fights with Dean, over petty things like movies and his grades. Him calling me condescending, me retaliating with surprise that he knew the meaning of the word. That's when I reach the best entry, one of my favorites to read.
April 12/2002
We broke up. I saw him kissing Debbie Perce in the Gazebo. I found out later that someone had told Dean that I'd done things with Jess, things that I'd never do. I told Dean that I didn't do them later and he believed me. He thought that we were back together, but I slammed the door in his face, he's not exactly the brightest light on the block. He tried calling; I either didn't pick up the phone or picked it up and slammed it back down. I got tired of the ringing and went down to the bridge. Eventually Jess showed up and we talked, a lot. About every topic I'd ever dreamed of. That's when I realized that it was he. That I needed him.
*****
I remembered that night perfectly. We'd been sitting on that very bridge just talking. He'd told me his story; I'd seen the "Jess Movie" through his eyes. He saw the "Rory movie" and something was different between us. An openness that we'd never shared before. It was the first night he hadn't hid behind the attitude. It was the first time I saw him smile. Footsteps on the bridge made me glance up quickly, slamming my journal shut simultaneously. My mom was standing their about two feet away from me. She walks over silently and sits down. "Luke just called me." I nod. "He told me what happened." I nod again. "Are you ok?" I nod again feeling like one of those bobbing dogs in cars. "Do you just want to hang out here for a while?" She asks.
"I think I just need some time to think." I say staring at my journal. She kisses my head and leaves the bridge. I need time because I have to write. I have too tell the story.
*******What happened to Jess????************Give me a review and I'll let you know. As in post chapter two.*** Happy Reviewing!!!***