“Jason.” Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
“Jane.” I replied in the same monotonic voice she gave me.
“What’re you doing?” This question always irked me, just a little bit. We talk on the phone for hours and a lot of our conversation has to be rerouted to this same question. It’s like the thread on some forum has died and this is the only way to spark a new one, to start a completely new topic. Why can’t she just randomly start the conversation, instead of using this method as a means of transition to something else?
“Why does it matter to you?” Answering a question with a question is redundant, but I felt no need to comply with her question.
“Well, we are talking on the phone, stupid.” Her semi-witty reply brought a deafening smile. I could imagine her smiling on the other side of the phone. Her reply isn’t really that witty, but I let her have that moment of pride.
“Ah, good point. I’m just thinking.” An answer so vague, anyone can predict the upcoming follow up question.
“What about?” And there it is.
“You.” I wasn’t being completely honest with this answer; although I wasn’t completely lying as well. My train of thoughts did include her, but I dared not share it with her, even if we are the closest of friends.
“Don’t be stupid.” Could she be any colder?
“I’m being serious.” She never did take me seriously in affairs regarding feelings.
“What about me?” Debating whether or not to share particular information with someone is quite tricky. It’s even trickier when it has to do with them. I sometimes wonder how KGB or CIA agents handle interrogation questions like these. Playing dumb certainly won’t help, because you’ve been caught. But comparing my conundrum with KGB and CIA interrogation extraction methods is clearly over exaggerating the entire situation.
“Nothing in particular.” You got to love vague answers.
“Stop being cryptic, will you?” Life is never fun without puzzles, or maybe that’s just me.
“Did you know that cynic rhymes with cryptic?” This is true.
“And so does you’re being a dick.” And so was her reply.
“Good one.” That answer deserved a moment of pride, but I could tell she was becoming sick of my cryptic messages.
“Are you going to tell me or not, Jason?” She wasn’t even asking a question at this point. She was merely stating, tell me or I’ll kill you when I see you, but in a subtler way.
“How long have we known each other?” Stalling was my forte, but she knows that as well.
“Seven years, is this relevant?” If patience is a virtue, then Jane is the exact opposite. Brutal honesty is her specialty and detours are her biggest pet peeve. I’m the complete opposite.
“How well do you know me?” See? Complete opposite.
“Well enough to know that you’re stalling, which means you’re deciding whether you should reveal your secret. You might as well though, what difference is one secret from the millions you’ve confided in me.” What’re best friends for, except to extort your deepest darkest secret out of the hiding place you call your mind.
“Prove it.” I’m running out of tactics.
“You’ve told me about how you’ve broken many young and naive girls because of your cynicism and lack of anything better to do. It’s something you take pride in, being a sweet talker and all. Although, in reality, you’re just being insecure and refuse to let any of these victims of yours get close enough to see you for who you really are. The lame dork I talk to every day.” Ouch, that’s below the belt.
“That’s not proving it.” I’m backed against a wall. I’m starting to debate whether she’s gained some sort of resentment over me after telling her my life adventures. Granted, I’m not the best human being, and I know I’ve done many unforgiving deeds, but I always assumed that Jane either didn’t care much for my antics or approved of it.
“Agatha, Sophia, Diane, Fiona, Gina, Helen, Kagome, Lisa, Patricia, Olivia, Yumi, Tina, Rita, Erika, Alicia, Alice, Vivian, Stephanie, Sandy, Nikki, Michelle, Michelle C, Michelle E, Carol, Anne, Gabby, Eileen, and your latest victim, Caroline.” Every last one of them, this is what I get for befriending someone with a memory span that would outlast my computer hard drive.
“You’re still not proving anything.” If I ever wanted to commit suicide, angering Jane would be the quickest way to get there.
“You’ve lost, Jason. You might as well tell me. You know you have no other question to circle around to. Just tell me. Will it really change how I see you? My best friend is a heartbreaking, cynical, heartless, spawn from hell asshole, and no secret you say will change that.” I smiled at her compliment. What she said was true, and if it was anyone else except Jane, I might’ve been a little bit insulted.
“I love you, Jane.” She’s not going to believe me.
“I know you do.” Typical Jane answer.
“No, I mean it. I love you.” I’m trying to win a losing war.
“And those other girls?” And there drops the Fat Man.
“I’ve got nothing that can possibly change how this situation seems right now.” Honesty and vagueness was my only hope. I was certain that being together with Jane was hopeless. I felt like I’ve been in the friend zone for seven long years and was going to be stuck there until death tears us apart. I tried to get over Jane with the means of using harmless flirting to keep my mind of it. But it never worked. No matter who it was, all I could think about was Jane. Like a KGB being brainwashed into perfection. I felt like I had to brainwash myself into a robotic state around Jane. It was the only logical way of getting out of the friend zone intact.
“Falling in love is a dangerous commitment.” Jane’s favourite motto, but it spoke nothing less than the truth.
“I know. I’ve been in love with you for seven years.” Seven years of trying to get over her.
“When did you fall in love with me?” I might as well be truthful.
“The minute I saw you.” I never thought I’d be admitting this.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I didn’t want to lose you.
“You told me you didn’t believe in love at first sight.”
“My opinion changed when I saw you.”
Showing posts with label Midnight Stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Midnight Stories. Show all posts
Friday, May 14, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
Mortal Superhero
“Michael, where are you taking me!”
“Just keep your eyes closed. It’s something that you said we’d go to when we first started going out.”
“I’ve kept my eyes closed for the past hour or so!”
“You’re so impatient, April. I had to get everything fixed. Okay, you can open your eyes now.”
April opened her eyes and her mouth dropped. She smiled and turned her head.
“Seriously? A bowling alley? For our first year anniversary? You’re kidding, right?”
“Not at all, you use to bowl, and so did I. You keep telling me that you’d kick my ass in it, so here we are. For our first year anniversary, we’re going to compete against each other.”
“That’s sentimental, different and odd, but why THIS bowling alley?”
“Why not?”
“This is an exclusive bowling alley, a hangout for gangsters, drug dealers and thugs.”
“And it’s also the spot for professional bowlers, and it has a lot of publicity. Tonnes of people come here just to watch people play.”
“So, you want to embarrass me by playing here?”
“You hit 200s! I’m the one that should be worried, I haven’t played in years!”
“Neither have I! We should go...”
April’s eyes looked at the floor where her bowling equipment was lying. Michael went through all of this, staying here is the least I could do, right? She looked up and saw Michael’s hurt eyes. Even though he didn’t want to tell her, he worked hard on finding her bowling alley that her late grandfather took her too when she was young, digging through her attic for her equipment and checking with the locals if anything serious has been happening in that area. It’s true what she pointed out, the local thugs like to hang around here. But they don’t shoot off bullets like what the media portrays them as. It’s more like a gathering of young teens whose families aren’t the best places to be at. Thugs in this particular area are victims of abuse, drug-hooked parents and accidental pregnancies. Michael, of course, understood their point of view, as his birth wasn’t planned either.
“Michael, how much does it cost here?” Michael’s face lit up.
-
“This is going to be our fifth game, are you sure you’re still up? I mean, a tie is a horrible way to end, but you can forfeit you know?”
“You’re so competitive, April.”
“Great game, you guys.” A new voice spoke from behind them. But random compliments happened daily at this location. They didn’t notice the crowd that grew behind them. No other lanes were being used except theirs. All eyes were on them. April and Michael both blushed at the realisation of this audience.
“Sorry, let me introduce myself. I’m Aaron, regular here.” He was sitting on the seats instead of watching from the semi circle the crowd had formed. Something about him made Michael feel uneasy, but he just shook it off.
“Name’s Michael. This is April.”
“Nice to meet you, Aaron.”
“Likewise. Just pretend the audience isn’t here. You won’t even know they’re here. They cheer like it’s a golf tournament, so don’t worry.”
“Uhm, excuse me,” a group of young girls came out of the crowd, probably in their late teen years, “did you say that you’re Aaron?”
“That depends on who is asking.” His answer seemed so cold. He didn’t even glance at the four girls acting like elementary children professing their childish crush.
“I’m Jenny, and these are my friends, Christine, Jackie and Carrie. Uhm,” she seemed to be getting more nervous by the minute, “my friend Christine thinks you’re cute and wanted to ask for your number.”
“No I do not!” Christine protested too quickly. She gave away the truth in the sound of her protest and the blush of her skin, “Jackie did!” The entire conversation transformed into the four young girls playing the blame game.
“Why don’t we all talk somewhere, more secluded?” The four of them blushed instantly and followed Aaron as he disappeared into the crowd. The spectators seemed un-phased by that little fiasco. Michael laughed at the thought of the girls being turned down by Aaron. He’s way too uninterested in them. The crowd silently urged the two competitors to continue playing.
-
“I’m glad it ended as a tie, April.”
“Why? A tie’s the worst thing to end a competition on.”
“But at least we’re not mad at each other, right?”
“Yeah. I wonder what happened to Aaron.” The alley owner picked up the conversation.
“He said something about going out for drinks with them. He took my car keys too, that damned brat.”
“Wait, I assumed he was like sixteen,”
“No, ma’am. I think he’s seventeen.”
“How’d he get his license so early?” Michael was a bit jealous. His cousins taught him how to drive but his parents forbade him to get his license until he’s in college.
“He doesn’t have one. That seventeen year old hoodlum’s always getting into trouble. I don’t know how he gets away with it. Being the leader of the local Hunters gang. Sometimes, I think that the cops are watching over that gang more than trying to take it down.”
Michael and April both dropped their bowling ball bags. Their jaws almost dropped at the thought that the biggest gang leader was sitting right in front of them.
“Hunter? As in the gang that’s chalked up more dead bodies than the cops can count?”
“Must mean you’re from uptown, huh? Well, the media spins that tale the wrong way. See, we live in the worst part of the neighbourhood. Our area is right in the middle of the Pirates Clan and War Hawks. And those two gangs are always playing monopoly with these neighbourhoods. These parts here are the biggest drug users this city’s ever seen. So the Pirates and War Hawks are always claiming property. And sometimes, we get in the crossfire because we get mistaken for members of the other gang. Both gangs think they’re tough so they pick on the kids in the middle. Then, at night, they stand on the corners of their territory and sell drugs to the parents of those children. And sometimes, the gangs have a shoot out in a neighbourhood with kids playing in the street for no apparent reason or warning. Aaron, a former drug dealer and former member of War Hawks, saw the wrong and did something about it. He made his own gang, where everyone is accepted. I guess it’s thanks to the media that the Hunters have a higher body count than both rival gangs. I think it’s just because it happens more often in the Hunters streets. But the cops know in their heart, these kids just want protection, and a way out of this hard life. I’ve seen the mayor secretly thank Aaron for keeping as many kids safe. Look at that, I’m rambling on again. Sorry about that.”
The old man seemed to speak highly of Aaron, like he was proud of him. It brought a smile to Michael knowing that someone is actually trying to make a difference.
“Why are they called Hunters, old man?” April always asked the most irrelevant questions.
“It was given by the media as well. One of the local boys, probably nine or ten, got shot. It was straight execution, one bullet to the child’s head. Aaron hunted the people responsible. Needless to say, he got what he deserved. Aaron turned himself in, but the judge let him walk on substantial evidence. The media claims that he was paid off and the judge lost his job for letting Aaron go for what he thought was right. I even hear that Aaron’s trying to bring the two gangs to peace by putting together an organized drug market. I know, it sounds bad, but that’s what the two gangs fight for. Market distribution, and trust me, it’s still nothing compared to the competition that the big business companies fight. But around here, we’ll take whatever peace we can get, even if it means basically locally legalizing the drug merchandise. Aaron’s a good guy, and I believe that not even God will deny that.”
As April and Michael headed for their car, April looked up at the moving clouds and smiled.
“What do you think of that Aaron character, babe?”
“He’s exactly what this world needs. A mortal superhero.”
“Just keep your eyes closed. It’s something that you said we’d go to when we first started going out.”
“I’ve kept my eyes closed for the past hour or so!”
“You’re so impatient, April. I had to get everything fixed. Okay, you can open your eyes now.”
April opened her eyes and her mouth dropped. She smiled and turned her head.
“Seriously? A bowling alley? For our first year anniversary? You’re kidding, right?”
“Not at all, you use to bowl, and so did I. You keep telling me that you’d kick my ass in it, so here we are. For our first year anniversary, we’re going to compete against each other.”
“That’s sentimental, different and odd, but why THIS bowling alley?”
“Why not?”
“This is an exclusive bowling alley, a hangout for gangsters, drug dealers and thugs.”
“And it’s also the spot for professional bowlers, and it has a lot of publicity. Tonnes of people come here just to watch people play.”
“So, you want to embarrass me by playing here?”
“You hit 200s! I’m the one that should be worried, I haven’t played in years!”
“Neither have I! We should go...”
April’s eyes looked at the floor where her bowling equipment was lying. Michael went through all of this, staying here is the least I could do, right? She looked up and saw Michael’s hurt eyes. Even though he didn’t want to tell her, he worked hard on finding her bowling alley that her late grandfather took her too when she was young, digging through her attic for her equipment and checking with the locals if anything serious has been happening in that area. It’s true what she pointed out, the local thugs like to hang around here. But they don’t shoot off bullets like what the media portrays them as. It’s more like a gathering of young teens whose families aren’t the best places to be at. Thugs in this particular area are victims of abuse, drug-hooked parents and accidental pregnancies. Michael, of course, understood their point of view, as his birth wasn’t planned either.
“Michael, how much does it cost here?” Michael’s face lit up.
-
“This is going to be our fifth game, are you sure you’re still up? I mean, a tie is a horrible way to end, but you can forfeit you know?”
“You’re so competitive, April.”
“Great game, you guys.” A new voice spoke from behind them. But random compliments happened daily at this location. They didn’t notice the crowd that grew behind them. No other lanes were being used except theirs. All eyes were on them. April and Michael both blushed at the realisation of this audience.
“Sorry, let me introduce myself. I’m Aaron, regular here.” He was sitting on the seats instead of watching from the semi circle the crowd had formed. Something about him made Michael feel uneasy, but he just shook it off.
“Name’s Michael. This is April.”
“Nice to meet you, Aaron.”
“Likewise. Just pretend the audience isn’t here. You won’t even know they’re here. They cheer like it’s a golf tournament, so don’t worry.”
“Uhm, excuse me,” a group of young girls came out of the crowd, probably in their late teen years, “did you say that you’re Aaron?”
“That depends on who is asking.” His answer seemed so cold. He didn’t even glance at the four girls acting like elementary children professing their childish crush.
“I’m Jenny, and these are my friends, Christine, Jackie and Carrie. Uhm,” she seemed to be getting more nervous by the minute, “my friend Christine thinks you’re cute and wanted to ask for your number.”
“No I do not!” Christine protested too quickly. She gave away the truth in the sound of her protest and the blush of her skin, “Jackie did!” The entire conversation transformed into the four young girls playing the blame game.
“Why don’t we all talk somewhere, more secluded?” The four of them blushed instantly and followed Aaron as he disappeared into the crowd. The spectators seemed un-phased by that little fiasco. Michael laughed at the thought of the girls being turned down by Aaron. He’s way too uninterested in them. The crowd silently urged the two competitors to continue playing.
-
“I’m glad it ended as a tie, April.”
“Why? A tie’s the worst thing to end a competition on.”
“But at least we’re not mad at each other, right?”
“Yeah. I wonder what happened to Aaron.” The alley owner picked up the conversation.
“He said something about going out for drinks with them. He took my car keys too, that damned brat.”
“Wait, I assumed he was like sixteen,”
“No, ma’am. I think he’s seventeen.”
“How’d he get his license so early?” Michael was a bit jealous. His cousins taught him how to drive but his parents forbade him to get his license until he’s in college.
“He doesn’t have one. That seventeen year old hoodlum’s always getting into trouble. I don’t know how he gets away with it. Being the leader of the local Hunters gang. Sometimes, I think that the cops are watching over that gang more than trying to take it down.”
Michael and April both dropped their bowling ball bags. Their jaws almost dropped at the thought that the biggest gang leader was sitting right in front of them.
“Hunter? As in the gang that’s chalked up more dead bodies than the cops can count?”
“Must mean you’re from uptown, huh? Well, the media spins that tale the wrong way. See, we live in the worst part of the neighbourhood. Our area is right in the middle of the Pirates Clan and War Hawks. And those two gangs are always playing monopoly with these neighbourhoods. These parts here are the biggest drug users this city’s ever seen. So the Pirates and War Hawks are always claiming property. And sometimes, we get in the crossfire because we get mistaken for members of the other gang. Both gangs think they’re tough so they pick on the kids in the middle. Then, at night, they stand on the corners of their territory and sell drugs to the parents of those children. And sometimes, the gangs have a shoot out in a neighbourhood with kids playing in the street for no apparent reason or warning. Aaron, a former drug dealer and former member of War Hawks, saw the wrong and did something about it. He made his own gang, where everyone is accepted. I guess it’s thanks to the media that the Hunters have a higher body count than both rival gangs. I think it’s just because it happens more often in the Hunters streets. But the cops know in their heart, these kids just want protection, and a way out of this hard life. I’ve seen the mayor secretly thank Aaron for keeping as many kids safe. Look at that, I’m rambling on again. Sorry about that.”
The old man seemed to speak highly of Aaron, like he was proud of him. It brought a smile to Michael knowing that someone is actually trying to make a difference.
“Why are they called Hunters, old man?” April always asked the most irrelevant questions.
“It was given by the media as well. One of the local boys, probably nine or ten, got shot. It was straight execution, one bullet to the child’s head. Aaron hunted the people responsible. Needless to say, he got what he deserved. Aaron turned himself in, but the judge let him walk on substantial evidence. The media claims that he was paid off and the judge lost his job for letting Aaron go for what he thought was right. I even hear that Aaron’s trying to bring the two gangs to peace by putting together an organized drug market. I know, it sounds bad, but that’s what the two gangs fight for. Market distribution, and trust me, it’s still nothing compared to the competition that the big business companies fight. But around here, we’ll take whatever peace we can get, even if it means basically locally legalizing the drug merchandise. Aaron’s a good guy, and I believe that not even God will deny that.”
As April and Michael headed for their car, April looked up at the moving clouds and smiled.
“What do you think of that Aaron character, babe?”
“He’s exactly what this world needs. A mortal superhero.”
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Sneak Preview/Reminder
Just a sneak peek for what's coming up with my writing.
I'm working on a written project, for myself of course.
And for those who care to read it.
I'm almost through.
I'll give you the titles of the stories that I'm working on at the moment.
And you may ask yourself, why so many.
A tribute to how much I love writing.
Plus a chance to try different things with each story.
And they are titled...
One Night
Waking Up (This one is already up on my blog, under Midnight Stories.)
Aaron's Story
Sleepless Nights
Seven Day Cruise
From The Start
And as a bonus, here's a little excerpt from "From The Start,"
Thirteen looked at her children's innocent eyes. Tears began rolling down, for she did not know how to explain the situation to her twin children. The shock of what she had just lost is still too fresh in her mind. She embraced the children, and the children hugged her in return. Although, she knew that her children questioned why she was eminating such sorrow and despair. The twins took a step back and her daughter wiped her tear away. Her son grabbed his sisters hand and Thirteen smiled.
"Don't cry," her daughter spoke so innocently, "everything will be okay." As if she really knew what her fragile mother recently witnessed.
"Always take care of your sister," she knew that her time wasn't up just yet, but she spoke as if her impending doom was nearing her heart. The young boy nodded his head. "No matter what, always look out for your twin sister, Aaron."
I'm working on a written project, for myself of course.
And for those who care to read it.
I'm almost through.
I'll give you the titles of the stories that I'm working on at the moment.
And you may ask yourself, why so many.
A tribute to how much I love writing.
Plus a chance to try different things with each story.
And they are titled...
One Night
Waking Up (This one is already up on my blog, under Midnight Stories.)
Aaron's Story
Sleepless Nights
Seven Day Cruise
From The Start
And as a bonus, here's a little excerpt from "From The Start,"
Thirteen looked at her children's innocent eyes. Tears began rolling down, for she did not know how to explain the situation to her twin children. The shock of what she had just lost is still too fresh in her mind. She embraced the children, and the children hugged her in return. Although, she knew that her children questioned why she was eminating such sorrow and despair. The twins took a step back and her daughter wiped her tear away. Her son grabbed his sisters hand and Thirteen smiled.
"Don't cry," her daughter spoke so innocently, "everything will be okay." As if she really knew what her fragile mother recently witnessed.
"Always take care of your sister," she knew that her time wasn't up just yet, but she spoke as if her impending doom was nearing her heart. The young boy nodded his head. "No matter what, always look out for your twin sister, Aaron."
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Life's Mysteries - Introduction
My story follows the life of Aaron. I'll portray Aaron fighting against his addictions and psychological occurdences that disturb his daily life. Suffering from an inability to grasp reality and the creation of his own mind merging with what he thinks is real, he begins to lose his grip on reality. Looking for professional aid, he encounters characters that push him to his limit. His hope is that he overcomes this psychological dilemna and can live his life normally.
So this is the background story into my ISU that I'm doing for english, hope you look forward to it ! :)
So this is the background story into my ISU that I'm doing for english, hope you look forward to it ! :)
Friday, September 18, 2009
Story Starter
He wished the phone would stop ringing. It’s been a week since he broke up with Ally. It’s as if she refused to believe that he actually broke up with her. They’ve been together for almost two years, but Aaron felt like he was missing a lot in life. Whenever he’d go to parties, he would have a conscience that would prevent him from making out with a girl he had just met. Over the last seven months, he had found out things about Ally that would make any self respecting boyfriend to break up with his girlfriend. Many people often wondered why Aaron would give Ally so many undeserving chances.
“You have three unheard messages, check unheard messages; press one.” Only three? She’s called over fifteen times and she only left three? Hesitant, he pressed one. “First message, ‘Aaron, I know you didn’t mean those things you said. I know I’ve said some things and I’m not the best girlfriend, but I love you, I care for you. Please, call me back so we can talk about this. We can make this work,’” Aaron pressed the number seven key, “Message deleted. Second message, ‘Aaron, I’m really sorry for everything, I know now how much—‘message deleted.”
Aaron was about to hang up, she’s been calling nonstop for the past two days but he figured he might as well delete the last message. “Third message, ‘Is this Aaron?’” It was a different voice; he was startled because he was expecting his ex-girlfriends. “’This is Elsa, from Chemistry third period? Our professor gave me your phone number. I was wondering if you still needed a partner...” Aaron’s mind stopped paying attention to the recorded message. He was trying to figure out who she was. Her name sounded familiar, but he had never looked at anyone when he was with Ally, not that he needed to. Ally was every guy’s dream girl, physically of course. But that’s not why he started dating her. He went out with her because she was interesting, different, independent and unique. But ever since summer, she became clingy, paranoid and dependant. She would be mad at him for talking to other girls, make a scene when a girl would attract his attention at the mall, and would ignore him for weeks when he forgot to call. She had him on a strict leash, but he endured it, until, of course, the day of their breakup, “...so call me back when you can. Thanks.” Aaron called her back without giving it a second thought.
Time flew by and it’s been over a year since Aaron broke up with Ally. He hasn’t had a missed call from Ally in a while and he was getting closer to Elsa. He even suspected that Elsa might have been attracted to him, but he placed that silly notion behind him. You’re just being too confident now, he would remind himself.
“What’s wrong Aaron?” Elsa and Aaron would spend most of their time together, studying or just hanging out. Today, they’re just sitting at a park bench, enjoying the view. Aaron enjoyed his time with Elsa but there was something about Elsa that reminded him of Ally, the way she talked, the way she thinks about things, the way she reacts to certain conversations. Elsa seemed to be too similar to Ally. He would’ve asked Elsa out if it wasn’t for that.
“Oh nothing, did I tell you how you remind me of my ex-girlfriend?” He found himself shocked that those words came out of his mouth.
“Really? So that means I’m your type?” She was trying to hide her cheeks turning rosy red.
“Why are you blushing for?” Aaron took that blush to confirm she was attracted to him.
“I think it’s quite obvious, don’t you?” Now he knew he wasn’t just being confident. But how was he supposed to let her know that he’s still not ready? After what Ally placed him through, he didn’t think he can ever trust someone at that intimate level.
“I don’t want a relationship...with you.” Again, Aaron found himself bewildered at what he just said. It’s as if his mind didn’t even want to sugar coat what he’s about to say.
“What?” She moved away from him. She didn’t know how to react. No one’s ever said that to her. “Do you not find me attractive?”
“You’re beautiful, but I just don’t think we should be in a relationship together.”
“Why not!” She was starting to cause a scene, and even though it was at the park, there were a lot of people walking by.
“Because, I told you, you remind me of my ex-girlfriend!”
“What’s wrong with Ally? She may have cheated on you, but she’s miserable when you’re not around! She loves you...”
“Elsa... how did you know Ally cheated on me? I never told you how we broke up. In fact, I’ve never mentioned her name to you.” Elsa looked like she was searching her brain for an answer, but Aaron was freaked out. He has never talked about Ally to Elsa, let alone why they broke up. “Elsa, answer me! How do you know that?”
“You... you told me.” She was stuttering, her eyes were desperate to find a more solid answer. Aaron’s eyes widened like he just solved a cold case with finding the final clue right in front of him. He fell quiet and stared at the horizon. “Aaron?” He flashed a smile and chuckled.
“I never did get over you, Ally.”
*wrote this for my english homework. I had to start the story with the first sentence that the story started with.*
“You have three unheard messages, check unheard messages; press one.” Only three? She’s called over fifteen times and she only left three? Hesitant, he pressed one. “First message, ‘Aaron, I know you didn’t mean those things you said. I know I’ve said some things and I’m not the best girlfriend, but I love you, I care for you. Please, call me back so we can talk about this. We can make this work,’” Aaron pressed the number seven key, “Message deleted. Second message, ‘Aaron, I’m really sorry for everything, I know now how much—‘message deleted.”
Aaron was about to hang up, she’s been calling nonstop for the past two days but he figured he might as well delete the last message. “Third message, ‘Is this Aaron?’” It was a different voice; he was startled because he was expecting his ex-girlfriends. “’This is Elsa, from Chemistry third period? Our professor gave me your phone number. I was wondering if you still needed a partner...” Aaron’s mind stopped paying attention to the recorded message. He was trying to figure out who she was. Her name sounded familiar, but he had never looked at anyone when he was with Ally, not that he needed to. Ally was every guy’s dream girl, physically of course. But that’s not why he started dating her. He went out with her because she was interesting, different, independent and unique. But ever since summer, she became clingy, paranoid and dependant. She would be mad at him for talking to other girls, make a scene when a girl would attract his attention at the mall, and would ignore him for weeks when he forgot to call. She had him on a strict leash, but he endured it, until, of course, the day of their breakup, “...so call me back when you can. Thanks.” Aaron called her back without giving it a second thought.
Time flew by and it’s been over a year since Aaron broke up with Ally. He hasn’t had a missed call from Ally in a while and he was getting closer to Elsa. He even suspected that Elsa might have been attracted to him, but he placed that silly notion behind him. You’re just being too confident now, he would remind himself.
“What’s wrong Aaron?” Elsa and Aaron would spend most of their time together, studying or just hanging out. Today, they’re just sitting at a park bench, enjoying the view. Aaron enjoyed his time with Elsa but there was something about Elsa that reminded him of Ally, the way she talked, the way she thinks about things, the way she reacts to certain conversations. Elsa seemed to be too similar to Ally. He would’ve asked Elsa out if it wasn’t for that.
“Oh nothing, did I tell you how you remind me of my ex-girlfriend?” He found himself shocked that those words came out of his mouth.
“Really? So that means I’m your type?” She was trying to hide her cheeks turning rosy red.
“Why are you blushing for?” Aaron took that blush to confirm she was attracted to him.
“I think it’s quite obvious, don’t you?” Now he knew he wasn’t just being confident. But how was he supposed to let her know that he’s still not ready? After what Ally placed him through, he didn’t think he can ever trust someone at that intimate level.
“I don’t want a relationship...with you.” Again, Aaron found himself bewildered at what he just said. It’s as if his mind didn’t even want to sugar coat what he’s about to say.
“What?” She moved away from him. She didn’t know how to react. No one’s ever said that to her. “Do you not find me attractive?”
“You’re beautiful, but I just don’t think we should be in a relationship together.”
“Why not!” She was starting to cause a scene, and even though it was at the park, there were a lot of people walking by.
“Because, I told you, you remind me of my ex-girlfriend!”
“What’s wrong with Ally? She may have cheated on you, but she’s miserable when you’re not around! She loves you...”
“Elsa... how did you know Ally cheated on me? I never told you how we broke up. In fact, I’ve never mentioned her name to you.” Elsa looked like she was searching her brain for an answer, but Aaron was freaked out. He has never talked about Ally to Elsa, let alone why they broke up. “Elsa, answer me! How do you know that?”
“You... you told me.” She was stuttering, her eyes were desperate to find a more solid answer. Aaron’s eyes widened like he just solved a cold case with finding the final clue right in front of him. He fell quiet and stared at the horizon. “Aaron?” He flashed a smile and chuckled.
“I never did get over you, Ally.”
*wrote this for my english homework. I had to start the story with the first sentence that the story started with.*
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Sleepless Nights. [Preview]
(Since Marcus [http://superegotron.blogspot.com] and John [http://snucksforthewin.blogspot.com] have all released some sort of story, I figured I'd show you guys a preview of the story I am working on. It's something new, as I do tend to try to write new things as I evolve as writer. And here you go.)
My condition must be affecting my brain. Every time I open my eyes, it seems to take a while for my mind to recall my memories. I didn’t think it was possible for a human brain to lag. Regardless, I knew that I was going to die. It’s inevitable. I spend my time waiting for the Grim Reaper and pondering my entire life while lying on this hospital bed. I guess what my parents said were true, I was never the optimistic type. But how could one be optimistic when his own doctors have placed him on death row? My parents have accepted the fact that I was to pass away. It seems like the only people who are hoping for me to survive are my siblings. How innocent they are, to hold hopes up to the point of impossibility. But a year ago, no one knew that this was to be my fate.
I took care of myself, ate regularly and healthily, exercised daily and made sure I was in top shape. After all, my curriculum in high school depended on me being physically and mentally fit. But if I knew that this was to be my fate, I would’ve spent more time enjoying life than focused on the future that I’ll never live.
It happened almost nine months ago. I was diagnosed with a weak immune system. The doctors had told me that if I took the proper medication, it would be like my immune system was not crippled by a biological mishap. Sometimes I wish that I was not born with an immune system, but I do wish that now, more than ever. The medication failed to do their job when a new virus was introduced into our ecosystem. Most people were sick for a few days and shrugged it off like a common cold. But when I was struck with this unfortunate bacterium, it was more serious. It not only made my medicine useless, it weakened my system far greater than any other virus. In other words, this harmless disease to normal beings became the reason for my condition.
Of course I went through all the stages of grief. I went through denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance, with each stage having their own comical tale. But I’ve already reached acceptance along with most of those in my life. I spend my days lying on this bed, staring at the window and watching people smile in the courtyard of this facility. I grew a hatred for the outside world. I grew hatred for everything around me. After all, how could I not? I was unlucky enough to draw the short straw and I was destined to be doomed. I hated feeling helpless the most. I sighed as I heard a knock on my door.
“Can I come in?” the familiar voice always brought light to my life. Her head peeked through the door and I found myself reflecting her smile.
My condition must be affecting my brain. Every time I open my eyes, it seems to take a while for my mind to recall my memories. I didn’t think it was possible for a human brain to lag. Regardless, I knew that I was going to die. It’s inevitable. I spend my time waiting for the Grim Reaper and pondering my entire life while lying on this hospital bed. I guess what my parents said were true, I was never the optimistic type. But how could one be optimistic when his own doctors have placed him on death row? My parents have accepted the fact that I was to pass away. It seems like the only people who are hoping for me to survive are my siblings. How innocent they are, to hold hopes up to the point of impossibility. But a year ago, no one knew that this was to be my fate.
I took care of myself, ate regularly and healthily, exercised daily and made sure I was in top shape. After all, my curriculum in high school depended on me being physically and mentally fit. But if I knew that this was to be my fate, I would’ve spent more time enjoying life than focused on the future that I’ll never live.
It happened almost nine months ago. I was diagnosed with a weak immune system. The doctors had told me that if I took the proper medication, it would be like my immune system was not crippled by a biological mishap. Sometimes I wish that I was not born with an immune system, but I do wish that now, more than ever. The medication failed to do their job when a new virus was introduced into our ecosystem. Most people were sick for a few days and shrugged it off like a common cold. But when I was struck with this unfortunate bacterium, it was more serious. It not only made my medicine useless, it weakened my system far greater than any other virus. In other words, this harmless disease to normal beings became the reason for my condition.
Of course I went through all the stages of grief. I went through denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance, with each stage having their own comical tale. But I’ve already reached acceptance along with most of those in my life. I spend my days lying on this bed, staring at the window and watching people smile in the courtyard of this facility. I grew a hatred for the outside world. I grew hatred for everything around me. After all, how could I not? I was unlucky enough to draw the short straw and I was destined to be doomed. I hated feeling helpless the most. I sighed as I heard a knock on my door.
“Can I come in?” the familiar voice always brought light to my life. Her head peeked through the door and I found myself reflecting her smile.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Waking Up.
My alarm clock woke me one gloomy day. I glanced up at what woke me. 1:11AM. Why on earth would my alarm clock be set to ring at such a ridiculous hour? I got up and pain jolted up and down my body in an instant. I was immidiately reminded of my recent near-death experience. The doctor did mention that I shouldn't move around too much, my newly stitched injuries will prove to be quite the obstacle. I can still remember the accident like it was hours ago although it is quite fuzzy. The doctor said the accident may have affected my memory. Recalling it made my mind numb, it made my mind ache, like I was not allowed to remember.
It was a red light, and I was looking for my CD in the glove department. A car rear ends me from behind and hits me hard enough to move me to the middle of the road. Then the next couple of seconds seemed to move in a slow motion. As my car drifted on to the flow of traffic, a car collided with me. The other car was unable to react quickly enough; I doubt any human reaction could've reacted quickly enough, especially because the speed limit around here is eighty. I remember seeing blood all over. I could feel glass shards on my left side. I kept on glancing on my right side as if someone was there. The car hit me hard enough that I was facing the flow of traffic. I was worried, but not for myself. I could feel my door squeezing onto my flesh. I couldn't get out of my seat, let alone move. Next thing I know, I'm being pulled out of the car with the help of the Jaws of Life. I kept on screaming about something. I can't recall. I must've passed out because I woke up in a hospital.
My phone started to ring, the caller ID was familiar but I couldn't figure out who she was.
"Hello?"
"Are you awake?"
"It's kind of hard to ignore the alarm clock."
"As long as I didn't wake you."
"Do we always talk at this hour?"
"Michael, what're you talking about?"
"I'm sorry, I can't remember. The doctor said my memory could be damaged, I apologize."
"Don't be. I'm April, do you remember?"
"I recognize your voice. It's calming."
"I'm glad you still think so."
"Why did my alarm clock ring?"
"Because you never hear your cell phone. You're the one who came up with the idea to set it at this hour, so that you'll never miss my call."
"Isn't that awfully sweet of me?"
"I'm glad you didn't lose your self-esteem. How are you feeling?"
"Besides from not remembering, I'm okay. Where am I? Am I at home?"
"Yeah, you're living on your own, if you don't recall. But the doctor said not to get up, I'll visit you later on today. Get some rest, okay?"
"Yeah, I think that's a good idea."
"Goodnight, love. I love you."
I didn't know how to reply. It was silence then the dial tone. I felt somewhat sympathetic that I couldn't even remember her to say those words to her. I'm assuming she's my girlfriend, maybe. I still can't recall.
A couple of days passed on, I still can't recall a single event of my life prior to the accident. My memory kept on focusing on what happened right before to that. I was in a restaurant, eating. I remember feeling angry about something. I felt like I was arguing with someone, maybe it's with April. She's been hanging around me a lot lately. But every day she's here, I feel like I'm hurting her more and more. My memory isn't getting any better and she's not getting any closer to me. If anything, if she was my girlfriend, I feel like I'm drifting farther and farther away from her. The more time she spends here, the more time I seem to not realize that I love her, if I ever did. It made me feel sympathetic towards her and I just wanted her to move on. I could not bear to be the cause of her sadness. She was adorable but I felt nothing but mutual feelings towards her. She didn't exist in my memory except the memories we are making now. Maybe if I keep this to myself, I'll eventually learn to love her and then, none of this will matter. She would talk on and on about what we use to do. But all it did was remind me that I am not able to remember anything farther than a couple of days back. What can I do? I can't even remember my age. She insists that I'm seventeen but I didn't feel like it. I'm in complete disarray of what to make of the events that are happening. Time seems to pass by too quickly except for the hours that I spent with her.
Days merged into weeks and I am still dumbfounded of everything. The world seemed to matter less and less to me. My injuries have kept me locked in my room. April's been more than helpful. She's been keeping me company this past week. If she was not around, I was in too weak of a condition to go down the stairs. It makes me wonder how I got up here in the first place. My memory was not getting any better. I felt like an old man, who could not even remember if he bathe himself or not. She's been taking care of me, sort of like my guardian angel. I would always wake up at 1:11AM and talk to her for five minutes. Then I would sleep some more. If she was not going to stay for long, she would help me down the stairs and give me my notebook. I've read some of my previous entries, it seemed like I was quite the writer prior to the accident. But what I wrote now seemed childish compared to what I wrote before. It frustrated me. I would spend the whole day just reading on what I wrote, hoping that reading my previous entries will trigger something in my mind and it'll dispell this amnesia. There was no doubt in my mind that April had been my girlfriend for a while. My notebook had her name all over it, even some entries from her. It brought a smile to my face because with her around, I felt like my life had purpose.
It's been almost a month since the accident. I lay in my bed awake. I checked my clock which was armed to set off at 1:11AM as it did everyday. It was two minutes to midnight, yet I seemed to not want to fall asleep. I've been lying on my bed for almost two hours and I was still wide awake. I looked at my clock again, one minute to midnight. I decided to stare at it until it would turn to midnight. Time always seemed to slow down when you're waiting for something. Soon the 11:59PM transformed into 12:00AM. I picked up my phone and called the only number that was on it.
"Hello?"
"You called." She seemed to be ecstatic.
"Yeah."
"Do you know why?" She questioned my motive. I searched my mind for an answer but I came up with nothing.
"Not really."
"Happy two years love."
"Two... years?" My mind started to ache. The room started to spin, I dropped the phone. I could hear her through the phone, asking if I was okay. I started screaming in pain and I could notice her voice worrying. I was in pain, but why? It was unbearable, I felt like someone was ripping me with their bare hands. I clutched my heart and my other hand was pulling at my hair. My eyes began to tear. I could still hear her voice over the phone. Who was she? I seemed to be forgetting everything that had happened. This whole month started flashing before my eyes. As they flashed through my mind, they seemed to disappear, as if they were nothing but memories. Her voice was getting softer and softer. I let go of my hair and grabbed my phone. I stopped my sobbering and listened for a noise to erupt from it.
"This number is not registered. Please check the number that you are dialling."
What was going on? I checked my phonebook. It was empty.
"Michael, please, wake up." I'm going crazy, I'm starting to hear voices.
"Come on man, wake up." I hear someone crying, they seemed sad. Why are these voices telling me to wake up? I am awake, aren't I? The pain became harder and harder to bear. My body caved in. I fell on my face. I looked around and closed my eyes, for the last time.
“Michael, wake up, please.”
I opened my eyes, I was in different room. There were two people in the room. I recognized them, they’re my friends. Where am I? What’s going on?
“Paul! He’s awake!” I recognized his voice.
“Gabriel... what’s going on?” Now there were three people present in the room, and I knew all three of them. Gabriel, Paul, and May. Everything came rushing back. “Where’s April?” As soon as those words came out of my mouth, the room fell silent. My memories rushed back.
We were coming home from celebrating something. I stopped at a red light. I was holding April’s hand. A car suddenly rear ends me, April wasn’t wearing her seatbelt. Her head hits the dashboard. My car drifted on to the flow of traffic, another car collided with me. The glass shattered, hitting my body. The door frame breaks and crushes my left side. I ignored my own pain. With my free hand, I tried to make sure April was okay. I kept on screaming her name, hoping she would hear me. There was no answer. I feared for the worst. I tried to squirm my way out of this metal death trap but it did no good. I was stuck, I started to tear. The pain in my heart seemed to hurt more than the physical damage I’m withstanding. Emergency services soon came to the scene and I felt like I shouldn’t even fight for my life anymore. Then, April whispered something, I couldn’t catch it. I screamed at the paramedics to help her, not me. But they thought I was just hysterical. I passed out soon after that. My eyes were closed but I could still hear the doctors and my friends talking.
“He’s gone into a state of coma. We tried everything we could do. He was in great excruciating pain and seeing his loved one die before his eyes must’ve triggered his brain into a coma. There’s nothing we could’ve done.”
“Wait,” I could hear May crying, “April’s dead? How?”
The doctor spoke again, “Her head collided with the dashboard forcibly. She suffered from head trauma. She died before she reached the hospital. I’m terribly sorry.”
“May,” Everyone looked at me and out of their own memories, “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. She loved you Michael. She wouldn’t want you to be sorry. Be happy that you’re out of your coma and that you’re still alive.” As true as those words may have been, I still felt guilty for what happened.
“How long was I in a coma?”
“A whole month,”
Paul and Gabriel left the room, giving me and May some privacy. April was May’s older sister.
“What were me and April doing on the day it happened?”
“You guys went out to celebrate one year and eleven months.” Then my dream in my coma suddenly came back. 1:11AM. One year, eleven months. My dream suddenly seemed to make sense. My subconscious mind was taking in all the information that happened in that one night. It was all too much for me to bear. I felt the side of my body; the scars seemed to be present. I began to tear up, my heart started to ache like in my dream.
“Today is my two years.”
It was a red light, and I was looking for my CD in the glove department. A car rear ends me from behind and hits me hard enough to move me to the middle of the road. Then the next couple of seconds seemed to move in a slow motion. As my car drifted on to the flow of traffic, a car collided with me. The other car was unable to react quickly enough; I doubt any human reaction could've reacted quickly enough, especially because the speed limit around here is eighty. I remember seeing blood all over. I could feel glass shards on my left side. I kept on glancing on my right side as if someone was there. The car hit me hard enough that I was facing the flow of traffic. I was worried, but not for myself. I could feel my door squeezing onto my flesh. I couldn't get out of my seat, let alone move. Next thing I know, I'm being pulled out of the car with the help of the Jaws of Life. I kept on screaming about something. I can't recall. I must've passed out because I woke up in a hospital.
My phone started to ring, the caller ID was familiar but I couldn't figure out who she was.
"Hello?"
"Are you awake?"
"It's kind of hard to ignore the alarm clock."
"As long as I didn't wake you."
"Do we always talk at this hour?"
"Michael, what're you talking about?"
"I'm sorry, I can't remember. The doctor said my memory could be damaged, I apologize."
"Don't be. I'm April, do you remember?"
"I recognize your voice. It's calming."
"I'm glad you still think so."
"Why did my alarm clock ring?"
"Because you never hear your cell phone. You're the one who came up with the idea to set it at this hour, so that you'll never miss my call."
"Isn't that awfully sweet of me?"
"I'm glad you didn't lose your self-esteem. How are you feeling?"
"Besides from not remembering, I'm okay. Where am I? Am I at home?"
"Yeah, you're living on your own, if you don't recall. But the doctor said not to get up, I'll visit you later on today. Get some rest, okay?"
"Yeah, I think that's a good idea."
"Goodnight, love. I love you."
I didn't know how to reply. It was silence then the dial tone. I felt somewhat sympathetic that I couldn't even remember her to say those words to her. I'm assuming she's my girlfriend, maybe. I still can't recall.
A couple of days passed on, I still can't recall a single event of my life prior to the accident. My memory kept on focusing on what happened right before to that. I was in a restaurant, eating. I remember feeling angry about something. I felt like I was arguing with someone, maybe it's with April. She's been hanging around me a lot lately. But every day she's here, I feel like I'm hurting her more and more. My memory isn't getting any better and she's not getting any closer to me. If anything, if she was my girlfriend, I feel like I'm drifting farther and farther away from her. The more time she spends here, the more time I seem to not realize that I love her, if I ever did. It made me feel sympathetic towards her and I just wanted her to move on. I could not bear to be the cause of her sadness. She was adorable but I felt nothing but mutual feelings towards her. She didn't exist in my memory except the memories we are making now. Maybe if I keep this to myself, I'll eventually learn to love her and then, none of this will matter. She would talk on and on about what we use to do. But all it did was remind me that I am not able to remember anything farther than a couple of days back. What can I do? I can't even remember my age. She insists that I'm seventeen but I didn't feel like it. I'm in complete disarray of what to make of the events that are happening. Time seems to pass by too quickly except for the hours that I spent with her.
Days merged into weeks and I am still dumbfounded of everything. The world seemed to matter less and less to me. My injuries have kept me locked in my room. April's been more than helpful. She's been keeping me company this past week. If she was not around, I was in too weak of a condition to go down the stairs. It makes me wonder how I got up here in the first place. My memory was not getting any better. I felt like an old man, who could not even remember if he bathe himself or not. She's been taking care of me, sort of like my guardian angel. I would always wake up at 1:11AM and talk to her for five minutes. Then I would sleep some more. If she was not going to stay for long, she would help me down the stairs and give me my notebook. I've read some of my previous entries, it seemed like I was quite the writer prior to the accident. But what I wrote now seemed childish compared to what I wrote before. It frustrated me. I would spend the whole day just reading on what I wrote, hoping that reading my previous entries will trigger something in my mind and it'll dispell this amnesia. There was no doubt in my mind that April had been my girlfriend for a while. My notebook had her name all over it, even some entries from her. It brought a smile to my face because with her around, I felt like my life had purpose.
It's been almost a month since the accident. I lay in my bed awake. I checked my clock which was armed to set off at 1:11AM as it did everyday. It was two minutes to midnight, yet I seemed to not want to fall asleep. I've been lying on my bed for almost two hours and I was still wide awake. I looked at my clock again, one minute to midnight. I decided to stare at it until it would turn to midnight. Time always seemed to slow down when you're waiting for something. Soon the 11:59PM transformed into 12:00AM. I picked up my phone and called the only number that was on it.
"Hello?"
"You called." She seemed to be ecstatic.
"Yeah."
"Do you know why?" She questioned my motive. I searched my mind for an answer but I came up with nothing.
"Not really."
"Happy two years love."
"Two... years?" My mind started to ache. The room started to spin, I dropped the phone. I could hear her through the phone, asking if I was okay. I started screaming in pain and I could notice her voice worrying. I was in pain, but why? It was unbearable, I felt like someone was ripping me with their bare hands. I clutched my heart and my other hand was pulling at my hair. My eyes began to tear. I could still hear her voice over the phone. Who was she? I seemed to be forgetting everything that had happened. This whole month started flashing before my eyes. As they flashed through my mind, they seemed to disappear, as if they were nothing but memories. Her voice was getting softer and softer. I let go of my hair and grabbed my phone. I stopped my sobbering and listened for a noise to erupt from it.
"This number is not registered. Please check the number that you are dialling."
What was going on? I checked my phonebook. It was empty.
"Michael, please, wake up." I'm going crazy, I'm starting to hear voices.
"Come on man, wake up." I hear someone crying, they seemed sad. Why are these voices telling me to wake up? I am awake, aren't I? The pain became harder and harder to bear. My body caved in. I fell on my face. I looked around and closed my eyes, for the last time.
“Michael, wake up, please.”
I opened my eyes, I was in different room. There were two people in the room. I recognized them, they’re my friends. Where am I? What’s going on?
“Paul! He’s awake!” I recognized his voice.
“Gabriel... what’s going on?” Now there were three people present in the room, and I knew all three of them. Gabriel, Paul, and May. Everything came rushing back. “Where’s April?” As soon as those words came out of my mouth, the room fell silent. My memories rushed back.
We were coming home from celebrating something. I stopped at a red light. I was holding April’s hand. A car suddenly rear ends me, April wasn’t wearing her seatbelt. Her head hits the dashboard. My car drifted on to the flow of traffic, another car collided with me. The glass shattered, hitting my body. The door frame breaks and crushes my left side. I ignored my own pain. With my free hand, I tried to make sure April was okay. I kept on screaming her name, hoping she would hear me. There was no answer. I feared for the worst. I tried to squirm my way out of this metal death trap but it did no good. I was stuck, I started to tear. The pain in my heart seemed to hurt more than the physical damage I’m withstanding. Emergency services soon came to the scene and I felt like I shouldn’t even fight for my life anymore. Then, April whispered something, I couldn’t catch it. I screamed at the paramedics to help her, not me. But they thought I was just hysterical. I passed out soon after that. My eyes were closed but I could still hear the doctors and my friends talking.
“He’s gone into a state of coma. We tried everything we could do. He was in great excruciating pain and seeing his loved one die before his eyes must’ve triggered his brain into a coma. There’s nothing we could’ve done.”
“Wait,” I could hear May crying, “April’s dead? How?”
The doctor spoke again, “Her head collided with the dashboard forcibly. She suffered from head trauma. She died before she reached the hospital. I’m terribly sorry.”
“May,” Everyone looked at me and out of their own memories, “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. She loved you Michael. She wouldn’t want you to be sorry. Be happy that you’re out of your coma and that you’re still alive.” As true as those words may have been, I still felt guilty for what happened.
“How long was I in a coma?”
“A whole month,”
Paul and Gabriel left the room, giving me and May some privacy. April was May’s older sister.
“What were me and April doing on the day it happened?”
“You guys went out to celebrate one year and eleven months.” Then my dream in my coma suddenly came back. 1:11AM. One year, eleven months. My dream suddenly seemed to make sense. My subconscious mind was taking in all the information that happened in that one night. It was all too much for me to bear. I felt the side of my body; the scars seemed to be present. I began to tear up, my heart started to ache like in my dream.
“Today is my two years.”
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