Woo, another fic! Please please please review. (This is very AU, by the way)
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Dear Ellie,
Do you remember that time in third grade when I forgot my lunch on the bus? Do you remember what you said? I do. You said, "Don't worry, Marco, you can have mine. I'll eat something when I get home." I remember how I kept saying no, but then you got mad and you looked like you would cry. You whispered, "Please, Marco, just take it." I didn't know what it meant then, but I know what it means now. You cared about me more than anything in the world, and you would die before you saw anything bad happened to me. Do you remember that time in fifth grade when I didn't do my art project? You gave me yours; told me that you would do another one later. I tried to say no, but you kept saying that Mr. Elkman loved you and would let it slide. How about in eighth grade? When your dad went away on a "peace keeping mission"? Do you remember how you wouldn't eat and you were doing drugs? I kept giving you food. I stayed with you until you got better. I just wish that I could've done that now. How about when I got mono in the seventh grade? I remember that you took all of my notes and gave my every single assignment in school.
You were always uber good to me. I really didn't deserve you at all, Ellie. You deserved someone a billion times better than me. But I got you instead. Which was grand.
Do you remember how we met? I was sitting on the bus, and then you came on. We were starting second grade. You sat down next to me. "Hi, I'm Ellie," you whispered. You always whispered when we were little.
"I'm Marco," I replied.
You nodded slowly. "Do you want to be my friend?"
"Boys and girls aren't supposed to be friends," I answered, furrowing my brow.
"I think we're allowed to bend the rules." You giggled.
"Okay," I said, taking your hand. "Where'd you move from?"
"Montreal."
"What's your favorite color?"
"Purple," you said, squeezing my hand as we arrived at the school.
At recess that day, I showed you a drawing that I did in art. It was done in shades of purple. "It's for you, Ellie."
"Thanks." Then I grabbed your hand.
"Marco's a faggot!" the boys hollered.
I remember how you got mad and started yelling at them. You screamed and cried and kicked. All for me.
I just wish that you were here right now. Instead of hurting yourself, you could have come to me. I don't know why you stopped talking to me. I don't know why you did what you did. Why you cut. I don't understand why you killed yourself, instead of coming to me. I would have listened; tried as best as I could to sympathsize, but no. You didn't want it that way. You took a gun to your head on April 2. On my birthday.
I love you.
Through this letter, I'm just trying to say that I miss you.
That's all. I just miss you.
Love,
Marco