Um, it's REALLY LONG! So, you're in for a read, but please tell me your input cause I originally made this when I was eight but of course I had to edit it a lot and add a lot, but the eight year old in me wants to know what you thought of it. Um, it's really long but please don't give up reading it, I think that it's really worth it! I think it's one of my best stories, and I made it when I was eight, so that's just sad.
Oh, and the song used in it is LET GO, by FROU FROU!
Just another heartbreak
So, our life was proceeding and she had just gotten a huge promotion that required her to stay at work longer. She was so excited. At night, before we slept, she would always talk about the people at her work, and the new friends that she'd met. She would talk about him, and her, and he and she. She talked about a lot of people. As much as I'd like to say that I listened to all her stories, I wasn't exactly the most attentive person. I would usually just drone out her words, but listen to her beautiful voice.
It seemed to fool her, so I didn't have a problem with it. I still recall some of the nights that we spent together.
I was reading a book at one point, and she was talking as usual. I always found her voice to be such a soothing agent, it calmed me. Like I said, I didn't exactly listen to what she was listening, but I still technically listened.
There was the night that she was talking about her coworker who had such a great talent for her job. She was giving her praises, and was talking about how she was going to be taught by this person. I was sincerely happy for her at the time. I was glad that she was able to meet and be with people that she could feel at home with.
There was the night when she was talking about him, another coworker whom had made it be one of her closest friends. She asked me to meet him, but I wouldn't meet him until recently. He was apparently quite funny, and despite being a bit of a klutz at his job, he was the type to always be there for a friend.
The talks went on about her two new friends, and her other many more friends. I still didn't find anything wrong with it, she was happy, and so that meant that I was happy. She was my whole world, is my whole world.
More time went on, and some things were changing. It didn't seem as though we were changing, because I found that there was nothing wrong with us and we were still as happy as ever. But she started showing some weird signs. I didn't know it at the time, but there really was something wrong with us.
There were times when she's get home slightly flustered, and would just head straight to bed, times when she went straight to take a long shower. The funny thing is, I still didn't find anything wrong with it. How could I? We were so happy. The dates we had gone on were fun, our sex life was great as always, and we seemed so comfortable with each other. When you have a relationship like that, you wouldn't think that there's something wrong.
Sometimes, when she came home she would be in a bad mood, and she'd tell me that work had her stressed out, and that she had a mean boss or some other excuse. Other times, she would just be very quiet. I found those quiet times a little unnerving, and when I saw her from the corner of my eye, she would usually just be looking at me, or strangely looking around the room, studying it carefully.
I never said anything because I thought there was nothing to say.
There was this one day when she seemed slightly off, and somewhat sulky. She was talking to me, and this time I was actually listening. She actually asking me for advice.
"I have a friend, and her mom is pressuring her to marry someone that she's not in love with, and who's not in love with her, and she doesn't know what to do because she's already in love with someone but she can't just go against her parents wishes. What do you think she should do?"
I remember laughing at her when she asked me that. She, of course, gave me a harsh look as though to state that she wasn't kidding, so I backed off a bit. But I was still slightly in comedic mode. I mean, how could she even ask me that question? She should be able to answer it herself, she knew all about how to "disrespect" the wishes of parents and do what it takes to be happy. I told her that her friend should do what makes her happy, even if it means losing the respect of her parents and family. But, at the same time, I told her to tell her friend to cling to them and never let them go, cause you don't want to lose them.
Once she heard my answer, she stopped and rubbed my back.
"Why is it so hard for two people who love each other to be together?" I heard the pain in her voice and I thought that the girl must be a close friend of hers. It's true. Why is it so hard? I think it's because love wasn't meant to be easy, and to have it you have to go through these ridiculous trials that are sent to put you off the path.
I told that it had to be, or else we wouldn't be able to see exactly how important it really is. She gave me a pained and weak smile before wrapping her arms around me and drifting off to sleep.
As much as I wanted to ignore it, her strange behavior continued for the months ahead. For the most part, she stopped talking at night, and just spent the time thinking. There were days when she came home extremely happy, and days were she just seemed downright depressed. Each time I asked her about it, she would just brush it off with another excuse about work being too hard or too difficult.
I tried my best to pry whatever it was that was troubling her but she just wouldn't budge.
I guess I should've tried harder.
There were also days when she came home almost, floaty, like she was on cloud nine. But there were days when she was just downright angry, sometimes I would hear her yell into a pillow in the guest room. I was scared, confused. I didn't know why she was acting like that. I was even more scared that she refused to tell me, or kept trying to avoid the topic.
I took her out on dates, trying to cheer her up and doing my best to try and find out what was wrong with her. She started cheering up after I took her on the dates. Well, I'm not exactly sure if you could have called it cheering up, it was more like numbing down. It's not so much that she was happier, but more like she didn't really get angry anymore, she smiled but it wasn't the smiles that I knew, she looked me in the eyes, but they weren't the eyes I fell in love with.
I was concerned for her and I tried to do everything I could to help, maybe I could've done more.
But, there was this time when she just became estranged, however, I would never forget the event that followed it. She came home really angry one day, which at this point wasn't really much of a surprise to me, but it was different. She was almost on the verge of tears when she came through the door. She was in slightly later then usual, so I decided to wait for her in the living room rather then the bedroom like I usually did.
The door had crashed open, and she was there, harshly biting back tears. I ran over to her, asking her what was wrong but she wouldn't answer, but instead she collapsed in my arms, crying. I didn't know why she was crying, but I hated seeing her like that. I hated seeing her in pain. I hated knowing that she was in pain and that I couldn't do anything about it. It made me feel pain, to an even stronger degree knowing I was useless.
She cried in my shoulder all night, and I could do was hold her and tell her that everything was going to be alright. It wasn't long before she fell asleep in my arms. I held her tightly against my chest, and then I softly ran my fingers through her hair before running my hand over her head. And then I cried.
I was so useless.
I couldn't do anything. I wanted to be there for her, to make her feel better, to make her smile again, to make her see that I was right here.
I carried her up to the bed and I laid her down. I didn't get any sleep that night. I felt more comfortable just watching her sleep, watching her in a peaceful state rather then the disruptive one that she had been in at that time.
I will never leave you.
That was the thought going through my mind at the time. At the time.
The next day, we both went to work as usual, but she was different again. When she came home, she came just a little bit later then usual but not enough for me to worry. I was in the bedroom, reading a novel like usual, and she quickly changed and went into bed with me. She didn't talk or grumble or do anything. Instead, she patted her pillow, which was something that she did when she wanted me to go bed or when we just wanted to just snuggle up and talk to each other.
It had been a while since she'd done that, so I was quite surprised, but happy that she hadn't forgotten it. I put my book down and settled into bed, and I faced her. God, she was so beautiful. Her eyes were different from the day before. They weren't sad or confused or lonely, they were in thought. I didn't know what she was thinking, but I'm pretty sure that it had me in it with the way her gaze was. She was just so gorgeous.
We were just staring into each other's eyes, soul as we laid flat on our sides. I remember her hand reaching up and stroking my cheek and a smile just blew up on my face. It was quickly followed by one on hers.
It felt good, like my crashing world was whole again. I had let out the biggest sigh of relief then. We leaned our foreheads in on the other, and she told me that she was sorry. Just two simple words, but it made everything better, and for some reason it made everything made sense again.
For the first time in what felt like a really long time, we fell asleep cuddled happily in the other's arms. At the time, I didn't care about anything else. I thought that if I had this then it wouldn't have mattered where I was as long as she was with me. I thought that it didn't even matter if I died, as long as she would be there holding my hand and seeing my off.
That's all I wanted.
Her.
The day after that, she came home really late, but when she did, she came home all happy and excited. She told me that I wasn't going to work the day after and that we were going to be taking a trip down somewhere familiar. I felt my heart rise into the air at seeing her so happy and excited. It'd been a while since I'd seen this side of her, and I was glad that it wasn't lost.
She started packing some stuff, but she told me that I couldn't look. I looked anyway and saw her pack some towels, some food, a few other things, and a camera. I was okay for the first few items, but a camera I was not. I wasn't the biggest fan of pictures, or at least being in the pictures. I hated having a picture of me taken. The only time I was in a picture was when we were both in it, other then that I had absolutely no solo pictures.
Our entire house was littered with photos of the both of us, and there were quite a few with only her in it, but not one of only me. She'd always try to take a single photo of me, but I always found a way to escape the view of the lenses until she finally gave up the change.
I could only smile and prepare myself for her onslaught of attacks. I was excited. For the most part, I was the one that took her out on dates, so I was wondering what she had in store for me.
The next day, we headed off to wherever it was she was taking us to. I could only blink in surprise when I saw the familiar sight before me. We took the path quickly so that we could be there before the tide came in. The familiar vast sight ahead of me made my heart soar. The ocean in all its glory, it was something that no beach could ever comprehend.
I reached the hill first before I turned back to her to engulf her in my arms. I loved this place. It truly is a memory to behold. I was quite happy that she's actually still remembered it after so long, and that it hadn't changed much over the past couple of years.
I was happy.
We took in the sight before us and she wrapped her arms around my waist from behind me, and laid her head on my shoulder. We stayed like that for a few minutes before she turned me around.
The next thing will stay engraved in my mind for all eternity.
She got on her knees, and she took out a blue velvet box from her pocket. She opened the box, a beautiful smile gracing her face, and her eyes turning into the most gorgeous colour.
"Will you marry me?"
I thought that my heart had stopped. My mouth had just opened but whatever words I was supposed to say died in my throat. Everything was gonna be alright. Everything was gonna come true. Three kids, all adopted. A two story house with a basement and bar. Us, forever.
She chuckled at my reaction, and sweet words left her mouth in a tune.
"So let go (let go)"
She got up from her knees, her eyes never leaving mine.
"Jump in."
Her hand had found it's way on my cheek and was stroking it softly.
"Oh well, whatcha waiting for?"
As the sweet words left the words, her eyes twinkled brightly in the light.
"Oh, it's so amazing here."
A beautiful smile grew on her face.
"It's alright, cause there's beauty in the breakdown."
I had known all about the tears that were gracing my face, but I didn't mind them, because at this point, my arms were already wrapped tightly around her frame, never wanting to let go, never wanting the moment to end.
"Yes." I met her eyes again before we allowed the gap between us to close.
She opened the velvet box, revealing a beautiful diamond ring. It wasn't small, and it wasn't big. But I didn't care, because it was mine.
She slid the ring on my finger and I could only think about how it fit so perfectly. I could only think about how right it felt, how complete and real everything was. It all just felt so amazing.
"I will never take it off as long I live." I told her, and I wholeheartedly meant it, in so many ways. I really did. It's a statement that I will live and die by.
We spent the rest of the evening there, we had laid down a nice large blanket for both of us. I had guessed wrong when I thought that she wanted to take a picture of me, cause she was taking pictures of the ocean.
I was laying down on the blanket, facing her, while she was sitting down with the camera pointed to the ocean. It was a nice and calm peaceful evening. I loved to watch her, and so that's what I did.
I just watched as she adjusted her camera every so often, and took random pictures of the sea. I couldn't help but smile at the sight of her doing it. This was the start of the rest of my life, and I felt good.
I guess she must've noticed me staring at her because she looked down at me.
"What?" She smiled out, innocently.
"I love you."
The small and innocent smile disappeared and it was replaced with a more thoughtful look. She was just looking at me, studying me like she had used to in the room. It was like she was looking into something else more, like something more distant, maybe into a different me, or a different time. But the look that graced her face was just so…beautiful.
She brought up her camera to her face and effortlessly pointed it to me. Normally I would run away or look away, anything to get my face away. But I wasn't looking at the camera, I was still looking at her, seeing that searching face look into my own. A small smile had graced my face, and I didn't know where it came from. I hardly even knew that there was a photograph being taken of me, but I didn't care. I was looking at her, not the camera, her.
We had packed up for the day and we went home, somewhat wet because we went late and the tide rose a bit, but nothing serious. By the time we got home it was late at night and all we cared about was getting some sleep. But I didn't sleep again, I just watched her sleep and I thought and I thought and I was imagining our future life, and what was ahead. It was beautiful.
The months that followed it seemed like a dream. We had planned our wedding. We were going to be married in a chapel though not by a priest, since our church did not technically condone it. But the priest was going to allow us to be married in the chapel, but it had to be by a government official.
It didn't matter to us, the fact that we were going to do it in a chapel was already more then we expected, and we were happy with our plans. We had planned to go to L.A for our honeymoon, and when we came back we were going to get a house together. It was going to have two stories with a basement, and a bar. And, we were talking about adoption agencies that wouldn't discriminate against gay marriages. We had settled that we would try and adopt a girl first, then maybe a boy two years after the girl, and finally another boy, one year later after that.
We were gonna be a family.
We had everything planned out. It was all perfect. Like a fairytale, a dream.
People say that fairytales don't exist, but at that time I could've proved them wrong. I could've told them my life story, and then they would have to believe in fairytales. How could they not?
We're close to date now.
A few weeks ago, she had told me that her friend who was getting married was inviting mean and her for a double date with her fiancé. I hadn't met her friends yet, and I thought that it was a good thing to do since they seemed so important to her. Her friends had planned their marriage to take place a week after we were gonna have dinner.
So, we went. She said that it was nothing too formal, mainly a casual dinner out. We went out to this bistro type place, where we had a table outside. It was nice, romantic. There were candles, and from the table we had, all you could see were the city lights in a beautiful fashion.
Her friends had finally arrived a little while later, and I got to meet two very nice people. He was quite charming, and he really was funny. She was a very polite and bashful person, quiet, but beautiful nonetheless. They talked about their wedding which was taking place the following week, and I talked about the plans that she and I had for the future.
She was eerily quiet throughout the whole thing though, not at all like I had originally thought her to be. At the time, I thought she would be bouncing off the walls in excitement at me finally meeting her friends. I was worried for a second, but she kept assuring me she was fine, so I had let it slide.
The couple really was nice, thought something had seemed off. Just from looking at them, I could tell that they weren't in love. Not like me, I thought. They seemed to be very good to each other, but it just seemed off. Then, I somewhat recalled a story that she had told me about her friend being pressured by her mom to marry someone she didn't love, and who didn't love her back.
I had guessed that it was them, and all I could think was how sorry I was for them. Though, with the way they were, it seemed as though they would still make it through, just because of their closeness.
I was still weirded out by her rather restrained behavior, but she only kept insisting that she was fine, and so I couldn't do anything about it.
The night ended, and it was fun. It really was a nice dinner, I had gotten to know her friends more. We had stopped by her friend's house for a while, just for some drinks before we finally headed home.
The days that followed it were also strange though. She was quiet throughout the entire week. She said that she had taken the week off, and so she didn't go to work, but when I did come home, all I could see her doing was standing by the window and silently watching the world pass by.
I couldn't decipher her actions.
Her friend had called, the bride, she had invited both of us to the wedding, and even asked if she could be one of her wedding brides. When I told her about the message, she only said that she didn't want to go, and that it was a wedding more for family then anything else. I didn't understand why she was acting like that. This was her friend with whom she had gotten along with so well, so why was she declining such an invitation.
I called back her friend and told her we couldn't make it. She was disappointed, but said she understood and that it was fine.
A couple of days passed, and she was still in her rotten mood. We were in bed that night, when I decided to confront her about it. I asked her flat out if there was something that she wanted to tell me, and she told me that there wasn't. I asked her if there was something wrong, and she told me it was nothing that I had to be concerned about. When I told her to tell me anyway, she told me she was just feeling some pressure from going back to work.
I interrogated her for about half an hour, but she didn't budge on giving me information that I should've been concerned about. She told me that everything was fine, and that she was just tired from everything. I didn't entirely believe her, but what else could I do?
She kissed me softly on the forehead and repeatedly told me to stop worrying. She told me that it was nothing I had to concern myself over. Her kisses had moved down, to the valley in my chest, and I already knew what I was going to spend my night doing.
It was fun, passionate, hot, amazing. It always was.
We became a mess of limbs and flesh. By the end of it, we were completely exhausted, and wasn't long before we both fell asleep in the other's arms. I recall feeling her heart beat next to mine. I remember when our naked flesh lay against each other, soft skin on soft skin. It was just so sensual, the way that our bodies just seemed to fit perfectly in each other's, the way that we felt like one.
I woke up the next day in her arms. She was already awake but she was just blankly staring at the ceiling, deep in thought.
"Hey." I told her, smiling at the gorgeous girl holding me.
She didn't say anything, but just looked at me and gave me a small weak smile. There was something in her eyes. I guess I should've recognized it at the time, but I thought to myself that I was just paranoid. But there was. There was something strange, and different about them, distant.
We untangled ourselves from each other, and she got up and got dresses. I thought that was weird, since she hated getting up early, and it was considerably early. She left the room, but I stayed in bed, still too tired from the night before to move. A little while later, she came in with a tray of food for the both of us. I could only smile in return for the gesture.
We ate breakfast in a respective silence, but as soon as we did, she quickly got up to take away the meal. It was different to see her moving so much. Like I said, she mostly liked to just stay in bed, unless she had to get up. But she didn't.
Yet she did.
The entire morning, she was just moving about, sometimes pacing back and forth, other times she was cleaning her things, which was something I had definitely not seen before. All the while, I stayed in bed and relaxed, thinking about why she was doing these things.
She finally settled back in bed with me, but got up only a short while later.
I don't know, but when she was getting up, I felt something go through me. It was like a really cold chill, and it scared me. I grabbed her hand on reflex, and I quickly tried to find her eyes, feeling they could help. I didn't like it. I didn't want her to get up and go. There was just something telling me that it wasn't right, that something was wrong.
She looked back to me, and gave me a warm smile. She told me that she was restless, and that she was just going to go jogging in the area for a bit. I watched her as she got dressed into her running shoes and everything. Each passing second, I felt a strain on my heart. I hated it. I didn't know it, but it was painful, scary.
I was watching her and she was walking out the door, and she turned back and she smiled at me, and she told me
"I love you."
She was disappearing behind the door, and that weird feeling was just getting stronger and stronger, and I didn't know what it was. I felt like my heart was going to burst, and I knew that there was just something wrong. I felt like I knew that if I let her be, I would never see her again.
I was shaking, shaking so hard. And I was crying. I didn't even know why, but it was so scary. I got up and I got dressed quickly. I went out the door and I followed her. I went jogging with her sometimes, so I knew the route she was following. She was there, just jogging quickly. It was hardly even jogging anymore, and was borderline running.
I did my best to follow her, twisting through the turns, but making sure that she didn't see me. My heart was pounding in my chest so hard, and I was still shaking. I had to keep following her, and I had to keep watching her, or else she would disappear. I had to.
Street after street, park after park. Soon we came to a point that I didn't even recognize anymore. We had been running for about an hour, yet I still had the feeling that I couldn't take me eyes off her. I couldn't even if I tried.
We were now coming by another area, but this felt familiar. We had passed the bistro that we had gone to the week before, and were in the area that her friend had lived. She was running faster now, harder, quicker, run, run.
I was on the verge of collapsing, but she stopped and she slowed down, and she looked at the building directly ahead of her. She looked so scared, but so was I. I was so scared. I think I knew. I think I did. I think I knew all along, but I tried my best to ignore it.
She came to a complete halt in front of the building, the overwhelming church. She was catching her breath, thinking, deciding. I was feeling my heart pound hard in my chest, not because of the run, something else.
She won't right? She won't? I told myself that, but I already knew the answer.
She did.
The dark wooden doors opened as she crashed in, a large booming voice from inside seeped out.
"If anyone here has any reasons as to why these two should not be joined in Holy Matrimony, let him speak now or forever hold his peace"
Step. Step.
Those were her steps, as she ran up the column. With each step, I felt as though my heartbeat would match it. With each step I felt as though I was being crushed, as I let the knowing tears fall down my face. With each step, I felt as though she was stepping on my heart, instead of the decorated stone underneath her feet.
"Stop!"
She was at the alter, and I was standing by the door walking in slowly. I watched. I watched it all happen before my very eyes. I watched her crush me.
"These two don't love each other." She called out to the priest and all the people in the audience. I was in the column, just slowly walking up to the alter. No one noticed my presence, not ever her.
"She doesn't love him, and he doesn't love her." Everyone watched with wide eyed aspiration. The priest was shocked and he just stood there, waiting.
"And how do you know that?!" That was a lady from the bridesmaid side who seemed older, I'm guessing a mom.
"Because." That was the word that left her mouth, nothing else. But she didn't need it, because she looked into the brides eyes, and the bride into hers, and everyone knew. Everyone knew what was in their eyes was exactly what she said was missing in the marriage. I knew. And I just watched.
I had known those eyes. I knew those eyes that she was showing. They were the ones that made me feel like I had two worlds, one with her, and one with everything else. They were the ones that made everything feel right, and complete. They were the ones that made me feel like I was drowning in the greatest fashions of ecstasy.
I knew those eyes, because they were the ones that used to look into my own.
There was murmuring in the crowd.
She and the bride just stopped, and I saw it. I saw them and I hated it. I hated it so much, because… because they were perfect. They were looking into each others eyes, and it seemed as though they were in their own world, and the smiles on their faces told everyone everything they needed to know.
They were in love.
And before anyone could move, they had their arms wrapped around each other. The groom just smiled. Everyone watched. They watched as these two people, who seemed so perfect just fall in love before their very eyes. It was like watching a movie, or a fairytale happen before your very eyes. I watched it, feeling myself crumble with every second.
And, before anyone could move, she and the bride had their arms around each other. It looked so real. It really did look like a fairytale. And they pulled apart, and they both closed the gap between them. I wanted to look away. I wanted to yell for them to stop. I wanted to claw my own eyes out. I wanted to tear them away from each other.
I couldn't.
It felt like something I couldn't touch. It felt like something that was too far beyond my reach. It felt like they something shining and something that no matter how hard I tried, I wouldn't be able to touch it or to hold it. It felt like something that was out of my world, like she left my world.
He, the groom, started to clap for the beautiful couple in front of him, and the audience, entranced by the gorgeous event in front of them did as well.
Why are they clapping? I thought. Why are they clapping for them?
It really was a fairytale. And they were the two princesses.
The couple finally pulled away from each other, still smiling in the other's arms, and then they turned back and they started to run out. They started to run towards me.
I couldn't move.
Then, our eyes met. Whatever smile was on her face, disappeared as her pace slowed. She must've seen it. There was no way she couldn't. She must've seen me breaking in front of her. The audience, were giving the couple a standing ovation, and they watched as the couple ran down the long column. My eyes were on hers, and…nothing.
I expected her to drop the hand she was holding. I expected her to tell me it was just a mistake. I expected her to tell me it was a dream or something. But nothing. Her once happy face crumbled, and she looked at me with the most painful eyes of pity. It was like she had just remembered me now.
They were passing by me, and it was then that the crowd noticed me, but I'm guessing they didn't care. Our eyes were still locked, and her pace was slowing down. The bride saw me, and she just quickly looked away. But in we were still looking at each other.
The entire thing felt like it was going frame by frame. Picture by picture. I wanted time to stop. I wanted it to completely stop. She was apologizing with her eyes. She was telling me she was sorry, that this was how things were gonna be. But I think that a part of her wanted to just stop, and hold me. Maybe that was just wishful thinking.
She didn't stop.
She lagged, and maybe, just maybe she would've stopped. But the apparent love of her life held her hand tightly and pulled on her to keep going. And then it broke. All of it.
She looked away from me in guilt, shame, and she continued running, running until she was out, until she was free.
The crowd had clapped for her, for them. They were still clapping, but why? Why were they clapping? That's not fair. It's not.
I looked back to the alter, and there stood the groom in all his glory.
"Where are they going?" I asked him wastefully. I wasn't sure at first if he could hear me over the thundering applause, but I'm guessing he did, because he looked at me with the same look of pity that the bride did before she looked away.
"Where are they going?" I asked again. It was pointless, but for some reason I didn't stop. He wouldn't meet me in the eye. He wouldn't look at me in the eye and say something, he just looked away in guilt.
"Where are they going?!" I said it louder this time, as if I thought it would make a difference.
"I'm sorry." Those were his words. I'm sorry.
I don't understand. How do you apologize for completely destroying someone's life?
"No." I still couldn't move.
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," I was shaking my head. "No!" The church grew quiet.
"No." I started to walk on tired and weary legs. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, but I didn't care. I walked, and I tripped. My legs scraped against the stone floor, because I was wearing shorts, but I didn't care. It was painful, but it didn't compare to the pain in my chest. I tried to stand up but I collapsed on the floor again.
The continuous tears that were rolling down my cheek hadn't stopped. Move! Move!
I kept telling myself that I had to move.
I got up, and I limped my way out on the door.
"No, no, no." I sobbed out.
"Noo!" I stopped for a second, but then quickly resumed. " NO!" I started to try running and tripped again, before I tried running a second time.
I was almost outside, almost there when I felt large arms holding me back.
"Noo!" I fought against him, kicking, and punching.
And I screamed out at the top of my scratchy and tired lungs.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
I reached my hand out, trying to reach the door, but the man kept me firm at his side.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" My voice was breaking in my throat.
The large noise had echoed in the stone church and I felt everyone's eyes on me.
I looked around and they were all giving me these looks. They were looking at me like I was an animal, like they disgusted of me. I could hear them whispering about me, talking about who I was, and why I was doing that, talking about how I ruined something perfect, about how I was a disturbance.
"No" I still tried to weakly fight him.
"Just stop. They love each other, and we can't stand in the way of that." I hated him! I hated him for that! They don't! They don't love each other!
I looked at him, I met his pitying eyes. "We're gonna get married in two months." I showed him the ring on my finger which I hadn't taken off since I had put it on. "We're gonna adopt a girl and buy a house with two stories, a basement, and a bar." I told him that, like it was supposed to explain everything, but he only looked away.
"No."
At that point, my consciousness was already fading, and my body was weak and I couldn't move. And then everything went dark.
When I woke up, I was in a cab that was supposed to take me home. The cab had already been paid for, and it stopped by my house.
I stood in front of the door in my house, and I couldn't go in. I didn't want to go in. I felt like I couldn't. A part of me hoped that she'd be there, inside waiting for me. A part of me hoped that it was all a nightmare caused by not enough sleep or something. I didn't want to take the chance it wasn't, so I just stood in front of the door, waiting. I didn't even know what I was waiting for, but I didn't care. I didn't care about anything anymore.
It was dark before I finally went in. It was empty.
It was exactly the same as I had left it. Pictures graced the wall, instruments and film equipment left in the open, I went into the bedroom, and it was the same before, ruffled with my clothes on the floor.
I had left the room, not being able to bear the memories of events only hours ago. She was in my arms. I was holding her, only hours before, and it just happened so quickly, so fast.
I closed the door, leaving the door behind me. I went into the living room, and I curled up into a ball on the couch. That night, I couldn't think about anything. My mind was just clear and it wouldn't process anything. But something came to me, she'll be back. She'll be back. She's just gone right now, but she'll be back. It's not like she really left, she's just not here.
I pushed the ideal into my head, and morning came when sleep did not. My tired and sleepless eyes had blinked the night away. The entire day, I sat curled up in the chair, not moving, not doing anything but waiting, waiting for her to come back. I truly believed that it wasn't happening, that she really wasn't gone.
I was in denial.
She's coming home, she's just not here right now. I told myself that again and again. She hasn't gone anywhere, she's just made a mistake, she'll be back.
The entire day, I watched as life passed me by and left me behind.
That night, she still hadn't come home and I felt myself fading away. And I decided to take action. That day, I left the house wearing the same clothes I had the day I left after her. I was still wearing running shorts and a sweater over my shirt. My knees were caked with flakes of dry blood and my face was still stained with tears.
I got up from my position and headed over to a familiar house. I didn't drive there cause I didn't really trust myself to drive. I rang the doorbell on the door that I had been at only a week ago or so. There was no answer, but I persisted and continued knocking on the door and ringing the doorbell.
It took a while, but the door finally opened revealing him in shorts. He looked surprised to see me, but gave me a sympathetic look. I didn't want it, I didn't want sympathy. I didn't need it. After all, she hadn't gone anywhere; she just wasn't there at the moment.
"When is she coming home?" I asked him, but he just looked away.
"Look, I'm not sure that's gonna be anytime soon." He told me weakly, but I didn't believe him. How could I? She wasn't gone.
"Of course she is, we still have to plan the reception for the wedding." I told him like it should've made sense, and it did, at the time.
"I…I'm sorry."
I didn't understand, why was he apologizing? There was nothing to be sorry for, she was coming back after all.
"When is she coming back, we still need to prepare the guest list too, and we'll have to call her parents to see if they want to come." I was getting mad, why wasn't he telling me?
"Look, maybe you should just go." He told me, but I wasn't done, I wasn't satisfied. I didn't get a chance to get another word in though because he had shut the door in my face.
I went home unsatisfied, and quite frankly a little angry.
That was the next thing. I became angry. Over the course of the night, something started stirring up inside of me and his words were echoing in my head. Why wasn't she coming home?! That's not fair! Why isn't she here?! I hate this! I want her here with me!
When morning came, my teeth were gritted in anger. I looked around me and I saw the pictures of her and me and I thought about how fake they were. I saw the pictures of her and I thought about how I hated it! How, she was happy out there with her, and not me. I hated it.
I stood up and I paced, trying to get of the overwhelming emotion in me. It didn't work, so I proceeded to doing something else. I tried punching the wall a few times until my knuckles turned bloody. I felt her eyes on me though, I felt the eyes of those taunting pictures on me. I hated it! I hated how they were staring at me, mocking my misery while they were in a sliver of time, happy and ecstatic.
I screamed. I yelled. I cried. I broke.
Again and again.
I was sprawled on the floor, thinking about how I could taste blood in my throat. I was mad, because I was useless. I was angry, because I was hopeless. I was in pain, because I thought it might make it go away.
Two days. The cycle repeated for two days. I there was nothing else I thought. Two days of anger, of hate, and pain.
But the hate turned into desperation. I needed her back, at any cost. I was willing to give anything for her. I wanted her back, and I would do anything. But I didn't know where she was, but I knew someone who might've.
I went back to the house I had gone to before. I was still in the same clothes as I had been almost a week ago. I hadn't eaten or done anything since then. What was the point? She wasn't there and I had to get her back first. I was desperate.
I went knocking on his door, knowing it'd take a while for him to answer, but I was frantic. It took about half an hour before he finally opened the door.
"Please! I need her back!" I begged him. "I just- I can't live without her!" I pleaded to him at the door. My yelling was attracting people but I had long ago stopped caring about other people.
"Please!"
He looked at me like I was a rabid animal that would hurt him and bite him. He looked at me in the same way that the people in the church had. I hated the look, but I just needed her.
"Please, I'll do anything to get her back!" I was on my knees and I was clutching unto his pant leg, sobbing.
"I'm sorry, but I can't." I knew that he knew where they were. I knew he did. His voice told me that he did, but it hurt knowing that. He knew, but I didn't. It wasn't fair. I just wanted her back.
"Please, I'll give you anything, just give her back to me." I was breaking down on his doorstep, and I was pretty sure that he wasn't going to let me in.
I looked up at him and I could see him being overwhelmed. "Please, she's all I have left. There's nothing else. She's-she's the reason I'm still alive." I begged him one last time before he shook me off his leg and closed the door.
I broke down again on his doorstep. I wanted her back but I couldn't have her. I would've done anything to get her back, anything. I just wanted to be with her. I just wanted to be in her arms. I just wanted to hold her again, and have her hold me and tell me that she loved me.
I went home dejected, depressed.
I gave up. I went to our bedroom and I laid down in our sheets. I pulled the sheets close to me, but no matter how close it was, it never took away the cold. I was alone now. There was nothing else. So what's the point?
I cried. That's all I did. I sobbed at times, then sometimes they slowed to quiet tears. No matter. Nothing did. I thought and I thought but it was useless, because I always ended up to the same conclusion. And I cried some more.
They say that there's a limit to how much tears you can shed, that at one point you can just stop crying. There is no such point. You can go your whole life crying, and it could still go on. I cried for three days. What else could I do? I had exhausted all my options, and there was nothing left for me to do.
Those three days I spent crying, I also spent thinking. And I finally came to a conclusion, I knew what was left. Nothing.
This was my conclusion. I wanted for some record of me to live down even if no one would read it, even if she'd never see it. I just felt like I needed to recall every important moment in my life, and I had. These were it. I called my work and I quit, and I deleted all the messages on the answering machine, they didn't concern me.
I guess I should've written it more like what it is, which is a letter, but it's not as though anyone's going to read it, or even care about it so what's the point? Why would anyone care about the ugly old witch?
Before, I said that fairytales existed. I wasn't lying. Fairytales do exist. Happy endings and forever after's are real. Princes, princesses, and fairy godmothers, and dwarves and everything, they're all real. And chances are, you might be in one. You might play a part in a fairy tale. It's true, everything they tell you is true. They exist.
There's just one thing that they failed to mention. There's just one thing that they didn't say. Sometimes, you don't play the part of the prince or the knight, or the princess. Sometimes you're made to play the ugly old witch, or the wicked stepmother. They don't tell you that not everyone is a prince or princess in the fairytales. They don't tell you that you're not the one that the fairytale is about.
I'm the ugly old witch, or the wicked stepmother. I'm the atrocious octopus girl, or fire breathing dragon. The way that they looked at me that day, it was like I was the one ruining the happy ending. I was the one getting in the way of their forever after. They looked at like I wanted to hurt them, like I wanted to be evil. No one wants to be evil. They just get stuck with evil parts.
So really, what's the point of even writing this? No one wants to read the story about the ugly old witch. No one wants to know about the wicked step mother, as long as the beautiful couple is happy, and has their forever after.
They have it. And now I have to play my part in the story.
I have to disappear.
It's fine. I've already accepted it. I already decided a long time ago that I couldn't live without her. I just thought that this day would maybe come later in life. But it's fine. It doesn't really matter. I mean, I'm just another ugly old witch that dies in the movie. After all, all I'll be is another drop in an ocean of tears.
After all, this just another heartbreak.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A ring once treasured is left on a table, above a picture rare enough indeed. The house, empty. Loneliness echoes within the halls. Farther away, there is a women, clothed in a white dress. She stands on a hill, not too high, but high enough. Soft feet padding on the rough and harsh rock as they reach the peak. Bellow her, a fate with no future. The sun is shining this time, contrary to her first visit.
She takes out a device and presses in her intentions. There is no answer but she never expected one. A beep is heard, and she whispers sweet words in a high tune, her final message. She drops the device on the floor, letting it go on.
She stares at her fate, and smiles, knowing this was the only thing left for her to do.
A short time passes, and we move on to our previous location. Another women stands outside the door, head leaned in against it. She contemplates, unknowing if she has any right to go into the place she once called home. She takes in a deep breath and prepares herself. Her hand on the doorknob, she feels her heart beating in her chest, and she slides the key in and opens the door.
Nothing.
Nothing had changed from her last sighting of the area. The place is clean, as it had been. She cautiously walks the halls, before softly calling out a familiar name. No response. As she walks, she sees unfamiliar marks on the wall pertaining blood. The unfamiliarity scares her.
She continues to walk, watching each room turn out the same as it had been left. There is no change much other then the strange marks on the wall, so breathes out a sigh of relief. But there's still nothing.
The nothing scares her. She finds her heart beating harder, not seeing the sight had been wishing to see, and yet at the same time, dreading to face. Step and another step, but still nothing.
By this time, her heart grows scared and anxious.
Her steps grow faster, until she surveillances the last room, her room, to find it empty, once again. The sight makes her panic. She quickly runs into each room again, frantically calling out a name to see if she had missed her, nothing.
She heads back into the living room in order to call to see if someone had seen her. She goes, but quickly halts. Her eyes find a glimmer in the room, and a picture of the girl she seeks, a rare one at that. She walks towards the glimmer, finding the object that had caused the glare on top of the solo picture of her former lover.
She picks up the object, before her eyes open wide at words that echo in her mind.
"I'll will never take it off, as long as I live."
She quivers, and stares at the picture. The sight of it reminds her of something else, when there was nothing left of family, and her lover was alone.
"You're all I have left."
Words fail to reach outside of her mouth. She can't speak and she collapses on her knees, shaking. She sees the picture again, watching as beautiful eyes stared not at the camera, but at her. The girl in the picture remaining nothing short of a vision with a heavenly smile, a vision now gone.
She breaks down, the two lines echoing in her head, and they start to fit the pattern of the cold room. She notices it. The room is cold. It's probably at a temperature no lower then normal, but it's cold and it's lonely, and she thinks about how that was what she went through. That she was alone.
Tears run down her face, and she tries to call out the girl's name but in vain. So she screams to make up for it. She screams, not words, but indescribably sounds, having realized the extent of her action. She screams, in her haste, from the corner of her eye, she notices the blinking light.
A glimmer of hope washes over her, and so she crawls on her knees to the blinking light, pressing the hard button, that would make all the difference in the world. She listens as the record plays back.
At first there is no sound, but she listens closer, and hears the harsh crashing of waves.
"So let go ( let go)
Jump in
Whatcha waiting for
Cause it's so amazing here
It's alright, cause there's beauty in the breakdown."
Soft whispers, a beautiful tune, and a familiar voice.
The sound of a large crash against waves and water. The girl who flinches at the sound, and falls in to despair after hearing it.
She breaks down again, knowing what had happened, knowing what her actions had caused, knowing the pain she had inflicted, knowing that her former lover and best friend was now gone.
So let go (let go)
Jump in
Whatcha waiting for
Cause it's so amazing here
It's alright, cause there's beauty in the breakdown
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
I mean, I'm just another ugly old witch that dies in the movie. All I'll be is another drop in an ocean of tears.
After all, this just another heartbreak.
Fini. Owari. Tapos Na. Das Ende. Oh Fim. El Final. The End
------
Okay, so how was that? In my opinoun that was one of my best stories. Tell me what you liked about it, and what you didn't. The eight year old in me is very interested in knowing.
