I saw you. I saw you cry for me. I saw you fall apart for me. Is my memory that important to you? Why must you think such horrid things? I love you. You love me. You should know... That I want you to be happy. No matter what.
I first saw him out the window in school. He was participating in P.E., he had many people surrounding him. But even so, he looked unhappy.
The next time I saw him, he was in the library. I was engrossed in my book; but every time I looked up for any reason, I saw him looking out the window behind me. It took two weeks of repeated occurrences for me to figure out he wasn't enjoying the scenery.
I asked my friend about him. She said his name was Chitsu Sakota, a third year like myself. He had transferred only a short while back and he already had tons for followers. She warned me about getting close to him, rumors flew around that he was a 'playboy'. Who could have known the truth of the future?
A mere two weeks later, we had a direct encounter. By then, I had fallen into my interest and prayed something like this would happen. We brushed hands, reaching for a book. It sent butterflies to my stomach and what felt like tingling shocks all down my arm. I remember feeling so embarrassed that I could of swore I would die. I had turned my face from him so he couldn't see the inevitable heat scattered across my face. "Go ahead." I managed.
He moved and after a moment, I felt my hand being guided into a palm up position. He pressed the spine of the book into it and said "Here."
I turned to face him, he was flushed a deep red with a gentle smile. He must of wanted to look cool because he casually cast his gaze off to the side. He was cute, not only physically, but his personality was adorable.
I smiled back at him and thanked him shakily. I didn't want to stop talking to him just yet, and without thinking I blurted out a invitation to join me in reading the book. I could feel the initial confidence draining with every letter pronounced and I prepared myself for rejection.
"Yeah, that sounds cool."
I was happy. He seemed to be too. He was interesting, he always had something to say. He could turn anything into a comedy show. He had his serious times too, though.
We made arrangements to meet again. After around five meetings in the library, we exchanged phone numbers and email addresses. We texted all the time, and the phone calls were endless. He was so cute and funny. He was kind, and at times, he was firm. He made me feel safe and warm inside. I had fallen deeper before I could realize.
He asked me to go on a date with him, we agreed to a window-shopping spree. We went into a store that sold small trinkets and snacks. A phone strap caught my eye. It was a sky blue star with sparkly pink edges. Sakota must have noticed my instinctual glances at the pretty object; because he asked me if not only I liked it, but if he could buy it for me. I rejected the offer, it felt wrong for him to buy me something. Even if that something was primarily comprised of my favorite color.
Months flew by, and we graduated high school. Both of us applied to a local college, I went for art and he for economics. He always liked watching me draw. He would always tilt his head off to the left, his chin resting on his knuckles. I had many portraits of him stashed away. He was so funny to watch. He had the dumbest looking sleeping face. I laugh every time I think about it. He was just too cute.
We moved into an apartment together to save money. It was a happy arrangement; we saw each other for breakfast and dinner, and lunch every now and again.
We went to a family run restaurant close to our place one night, he ordered something with a soda. I ate my food he picked at his and chewed on his straw. He was nervous about something. I moved on from my main dish to my beloved strawberry shortcake. Plucking the strawberry off the top, I placed it to the side and carefully flipped my cake. Eating from the bottom (now top) I ate all of the cake and ran my strawberry across the icing. He always liked watching me eat my cake. Sakota laughed and called me amazing when he first saw my cake eating habit.
I suddenly felt his hand on mine, he felt warm. Fever? Maybe just nerves? What was there to be nervous about?
"I love you."
My mind froze. I felt like happiness flew from me.
It's about time you realized it, silly." I giggled, trying not to cry.
That night, we made love for the first time.
Several months went by, it was like happiness overload.
It was a Saturday, I had a class but Sakota didn't. But, instead of going to class, I went to the doctor. I didn't want to worry him, so I just said I went to that class.
The test results were in, my doctor smiled at me and handed over papers. I was pregnant. Six weeks along.
I called Sakota around three. I couldn't wait to tell him. He picked up almost immediately, we agreed to meet at his 'confession place' at five.
I rushed over, papers in hand. It was ten til five.
I saw the restaurant, I saw Sakota inside. He was looking down, toying with something. I was just about to step onto the sidewalk when tired screeched.
The next thing I knew, I was in the air. I saw myself below, my top half sticking out from underneath a truck. A drunk man stumbling out of the drivers side. Sakota caught my eye, he fell to his knees. Papers flew all over, some soaking into the blood that covered the sidewalk. One piece hit Sakota in the chest. He peeled it off with an empty look. I wanted to go to him, to hug him, to talk to him. But my body wouldn't move. It was frozen in it's spot in the sky. His face went whiter than before and he got up, screaming at the driver. He violently beat into the man's face.
"Hariku! You! You bastard! Hariku was..! My Hariku was pregnant! Damn you! Damn you! Just... Just die!" his punches landed with every word. Onlookers pulled him off of the drunk. He was crying. I felt a scream try and tear from my throat. My own tears falling. Sakota...
I have looked over him for three years. Every year, he went to my marker with a gun. I would whisper soothing words to his soul, trying everything I could to coax him out of it. I knew that I couldn't do much. He couldn't even really hear me. My most important person was in such pain. It hurt to see him. His stupid sleeping face no longer showed. He slept without movement, pain written all across his features.
I noticed the phone strap that dangled from his phone. Every now and then he would try to get rid of it, only to frantically search for it and put it back where it belonged, on his cell phone.
This year he started writing. He wrote our story, how we met, how much we loved each other, even how I died. It all fell into his final act.
He dejectedly walked to my grave that year. He kissed the phone strap after cocking his gun.
I turned away as his finger twitched on the trigger.
"I love you." He whispered. Birds that had nestled into nearby trees and bushes flew off, the echoing gunshot scaring them.
I saw you. I saw you cry for me. I saw you fall apart for me. Is my memory that important to you? Why must you think such horrid things? I love you. You love me. You should know... That I want you to be happy. No matter what.
"Dummy."