Short Story- Learning to Lose

Patience and waiting wasn't something she did often. She didn't usually sit around for something to happen.

But, this was an exception. The phone sat silent on the table in front of her, still not ringing. She paid close attention to it, waiting, hoping. He hadn't called yet. He was late, she expected him to call, to tell her of his reason. But, he didn't. She sat there, anxious and doubtful. She trusted him. She really did. But, there was something in her gut. A feeling that kept pestering her. Something was wrong.

Horribly wrong.

She didn't know what had happened, but something tragic had taken place. She was sure of it.

It was one of those moments where she felt deeply connected towards Bryan. She didn't have to be around him to feel like something is wrong. All there was, was a signal going off inside of her head.

A warning. It's as if, she mentally felt what he was feeling. She usually wasn't one to believe in those tales. But, he was an exception. He made her believe in things that she never considered. Like love.

He taught her to love him, she fell for him. Something she'd never thought she'd do again.

He had saved her.

She sighed and placed her elbow onto the table, resting her chin in the cup of her palm. He would call. She knew it. It was simply a misunderstanding. He would have a perfectly good reason. Surely, he wouldn't do anything harmful towards their relationship. Not when they're just getting started.

Minutes seemed to pass, then an hour. She hadn't moved. She was growing aggravated, tired. Yet, she still had faith. He would arrive. The phone would ring.

Her thoughts drifted while she waited. She'd been thinking about cutting her longish, brown hair. But, she knew how Bryan admired her long hair. She wanted to please him. To make him happy, because his happiness came before her's. Always. She didn't understand what people meant by that. She'd scoff at couples. But now, she feels it. She would do anything to make him joyful, to cause him to smile. They completed each other like that. She discovered a lot of things since him.

She remembered a couple years before, in their high school years. She recalled how he had wooed her, how he had befriended her. How she had fell in love with him. It had happened too suddenly.

Yet, she knew she'd spend her life with him. He had convinced her, she had given in. Accepted her destiny.

Suddenly, the phone rang, breaking her out of her dazed thoughts. Her heart beat immediately sped up, it jumped and leaped. She was excited. Picking up the phone and assuming it was him, she answered hastily.

"Hey."

But, an unfamiliar voice echoed throughout her ears. She saddened in disappointment.

"Hello. Is this Bridget Hale?" The woman asked.

Soon to be Bridget Mill. She thought happily.

"Yes, this is her." Bridget responded, impatiently wondering what this was about.

"I'm sorry, but your fiance has been in a horrible accident." She froze. What? No. This had to be a mistake. He's fine. He's perfectly okay, he's on his way here now. Bryan had to be healthy.

"Is this a joke?" She asked angrily.

The woman sounded confused. "No. Bryan has been in a car crash."

The words took a moment to register into her head. Denial was her first reaction. He had to be alive.

This couldn't be happening.

Hurriedly, she asked the woman where Bryan was situated at, the nurse responded telling her Bryan wouldn't make it, then told her the hospital name. Bridget scoffed. Of course he would be alright. he had to be. He wouldn't leave her, he promised he'd always be there for her. She snapped at the woman, then hung up the phone. Bridget was right, the woman over the phone was wrong. She had to be.

Hastily, she grabbed her keys and was out the door, not wasting a moment of time. Bridget sped towards the hospital in a crazed way. She needed to get there. She needed to see for herself.

Sloppily parking, she ran into the entrance. Slapping her hand onto the desk, she demanded to see Bryan. The woman seemed intimidated by her tone of voice. She quickly gave Bridget the information. Then, Bridget sped walked towards the elevator, got to the correct floor, and ran into Bryan's room.

There he was. Lying on the hospital bed, looking horribly pale. His light brown hair seemed dull and matted. There were bruises and bandages all over him. He still looked handsome. In her eyes, he seemed okay. He would make it. Her delusions blocked out reality.

A nurse then came in.

She immediately jumped down the poor woman's throat. "What's happened with Bryan? When can he come home?"

The nurse glanced at her. "Ah, you must be his fiance. I'm sorry, but he's not going to make it home tonight."

Bridget frowned. "Okay, then when?"

The nurse peered closely at her, in an almost pitiful and concerned way. "I'm sorry, but didn't they tell you? Bryan's not going to live. He won't be going home, not ever."

Bridget stiffened. The tears were welling up in her eyes. No. She's lying. He would come home. They would eat dinner together, and live a long, happy life. He promised her. Bryan doesn't break promises.

"You're wrong." Bridget muttered, not wanting to believe it.

The woman gazed at her sadly. "He most likely won't make it through the night. If you're lucky, he might wake up every now and then. But, his chances are low."

With that, she left. Leaving Bridget alone with her sorrow and dying lover. The pain was too overwhelming. This couldn't be it for him. He was too young. Bryan was supposed to do great things in life. It wasn't his time.

Bridget sat by his bed; not moving. Nurses came in and out, but never bothered her. She was going to break soon. The reality was seeping into her. Her hope was withering, she simply didn't want to accept the truth.

Hours passed, nothing had changed. She didn't know what the time was, she didn't notice what was happening around her. All that she could think of was Bryan.

Her eyes were bloodshot. Her body ached. She wouldn't give in. She would wait. If she fell asleep, she might miss something.

But, that motivation didn't last long. Her tiredness eventually caught up to her, and she fell into a deep slumber.

Loud beeping noises woke her up. Rubbing her eyes, she sleepily looked around, attempting to find the source of the annoying noise. Then, it dawned on her. Sitting up, she widened her eyes and glanced at the machine hooked up to Bryan. The lines were moving. It was beeping consistently. His health and status was going lower. The number wouldn't stop decreasing.

"Please no." She sobbed out, holding onto Bryan's hand, gripping it dearly. She knew what the signals meant. He was losing consciousness. Slowly. Gradually. Horribly.

This couldn't happen.

The nurses came running in, she moved out of the way. They poked and probed, checked his heartbeat. Nothing would help. He was fading. Already too far gone.

Then, it was too late.

Bridget shoved the nurses out of the way, then sat by Bryan, leaning over him desperately.

"Come on wake up, Bry. You told me you wouldn't leave. Please wake up. Open your eyes dammit."

She was frantically yelling now, her shoulders shaking. The tears were spilling. The nurses watched tragically from afar, trying not to sob at the scene.

"Don't do this to me!" Bridget choked out, shaking Bryan. It was no use, he was already gone. She screamed out and lay her head on his comforting chest.

They were going to get married. They were going to travel. All their plans were buried now. She was all alone. He was no longer here to love her. She was devastated. Bridget couldn't find the energy to move or scream anymore. To pound on him for leaving her, to shake him to wake up.

Any moment now, she expected for him to open his ocean-blue eyes. To stare at her lovingly and tell her everything would be alright. To give her his charming smile that she loved.

The nurses had eventually pried her away. Bridget couldn't sleep. She barely ate. She was a mess.

The day came for his funeral. She still couldn't accept it. When she went up to the podium to say a few words, she tried her best to not break down crying. She felt weak. Dispirited. When they dropped the coffin with his body inside into the ground, she still couldn't believe it. Her eyes watched as he descended into the ground. It took a few seconds. But the truth finally seeped into her. She finally realized. He was dead. Her lover wasn't coming back. She would be doomed to grieve and miss him until her death.

She trembled. Her bread-down was arriving. She couldn't stand to be around people. She felt as if she were suffocating. Not waiting around for them to throw dirt over his resting place, she ran. Ignoring the worried yells, she left the grave. She sprinted until she came behind the church, a deserted place where nobody was. She fell into the dirt and sobbed. She screamed, tugged at her hair, her breathing became erratic. She couldn't control herself. Her emotions were everywhere.

Dead. Gone. Not coming back. The reality was a punch in the stomach. She couldn't handle it. Her tears kept falling, even after she was too numb to cry out anymore. She lay in the dirt, completely distressed and despondent. She never got to tell him that she loved him one last time. She never got to say goodbye. She wanted his arms. She craved his comfort and words. His soft caress. His warm self.
But he wasn't here. She couldn't have that anymore.

Bridget let out one last sob. She was breathing heavily. She could barely get it back. After her sudden attack, she left. Not bothering to tell anyone. She left and went home, then lay in her bed. She lay there, lost in memories and sadness.

She wanted to end herself. She didn't want to live without him. Without Bryan, she had no happiness.

He was her happiness, she was his. Without him, there was a void that couldn't be filled. She wasn't living anymore, only existing.

She knew Bryan wouldn't want her to give up. He'd want her to keep going. So that's what she did. She tried. She lived. But, that's it. She was already dead. Mentally. Emotionally. Losing Bryan was like losing a part of herself.

Everyday, she visited his grave. She told him things that happened. She cried and banged onto the dirt. She told him she loves him. Then, she would leave. Come back the next day. Then, do the same thing.

She never understood how it felt to lose your other half until now. It was breaking her from the inside. Destroying her. She missed him. But, she had to survive. People died. People vanished. It's the way of life. She'd wait until her end came naturally, then she would be at peace. When her time came, she'd finally be with Bryan again. Not in an afterlife, but in death. They'd be peaceful together. She wouldn't have to live with the suffering anymore.

Bridget knew now, what it was like to truly love. Then, what it was like to lose your lover. She was able to experience one last thing because of him. But this time, he wasn't there to see it. She was alone, completely lost and numb.

Short Story- The Lucky Survivor

We didn’t have a choice, there was no actual choice anymore. If they picked you, then that was it. No arguments. It was a test of intelligence, behavior and action. It was a test of knowledge and strength. A test to see if you could succeed. If you could survive. If you didn’t survive, then you were not worthy. Simple as that.

It was required now, everyone, or everyone that’s eligible or healthy, under the age of twenty-one had to participate in these events. It was an experiment of the new age. The world was divided. If you made it through this adaptation experiment, and if you conquered the obstacles, you’d be put in the strong category. You’d be with the survivors. If you died in the events, then you’re gone. If you made it out, but with a low health, or barely made it out, you’d be considered weak, and put into a different part of the nation. Out-casted from civilization and strong thinkers. The new people in charge despised weaklings. They wanted the world to be a strong place, a place with no cowards or losers. Ever since the war and disastrous tragedies, everything has been different. There was no free will or care-free days, it was to survive or become weak and die. It was to win or give up.

After the bomb and shockwaves, the ground had cracked and moved. It had re-shaped and vanished. Some continents were destroyed or underwater, some were larger, some new grounds had grown. They use one particular continent for the events. Everyone is tagged, they picked randomly from the people and citizens. No matter how weak or strong you are, you’d get picked.

I was one of the unfortunate ones, as well as the lucky ones. In this experiment, the subject, meaning me and others, is placed in a large space with obstacles, predators, landscape and such. Each individual is placed in a separate space with usually a different landscape. They want you to be independent and strong-willed. But really, they fear conspiracy, they fear people coming together in the tests and figuring things out, solving unsolved mysteries.

I had been going about the daily routine of this changed world, when I was called. I had been picked. My breathing had stopped, my body had trembled, the stress and anxiety had begun. There was no saying goodbye to friends or family, nor were you allowed to pack things up and take whatever. You weren’t allowed to be prepared in this experiment, you had to learn, adapt and survive.

They had picked me up from where I live and had taken me to an another land. To a different and unknown environment. One which I wasn’t used to. They gave me specific instructions on what to do inside of the land, they told me I was not to cheat, try and escape or do anything that would be considered bad in their definition. I was simply to adapt and learn. I was to be in isolation in a dangerous place, without any kind of help. They expected me to follow these rules, they expected all of us to go along with these tests and experiments. We followed those expectations out of fear, pressure and the want to prove ourselves.

Nobody wanted to be labeled as a weak outcast, then thrown out.

I was given a twenty-four hours. A day to prove myself, a day to survive, a day to show my potential. I was given a chance to show my worth.

By the end of that time, I’ll either be a winner or a loser. A weakling or a strong survivor.

They led me to a well-built environment. It a wasn’t natural landscape, it was all man-made and structured. To human beings now, natural is dangerous. Natural things cause death and harm.

I didn’t know how they did it, but the environment I was looking at now looked completely real. It was real, I knew that. But, it was fake at the same time. I peered into the room, it was a large space, I could see for miles. Everything looked natural, yet it wasn’t.

Although, nobody could tell what was real or not nowadays. Either a trick or man-made. Fake and doubtful. We lived in a disastrous, confused and periled world.

All I could see was white. There was a fluffy yet solid looking ground. I’d never seen it before. A person came up to me and handed me a large looking bag. I didn’t open it. They told me the contents that lay inside.

Knives, matches, cloths and fabric, and a couple other things to start me off with. But, it wasn’t enough to last, I’d have to make and find my own things along the way. There was no big speech, no ‘it’ll be okay’, nothing major or emotional. They gave me my things, then I stepped into my possible doom, without looking back.

The ground beneath my feet crunched. It was odd. The white substance seemed okay to walk on. I bent down and touched the stuff. It was cold and wet. It wasn’t slippery enough for me to slide and fall on, but it was solid enough. There was patches of a fluffier substance of it. Then it was solid again. I didn’t know what it was called, but a sudden word popped into my head.

Snow.

It was like the word was a lost memory of ancient days, the ground and environment was something of the old world. A remnant of a better time. It was strange and odd to me, but I knew deep down that it wasn’t a completely new thing. I was stepping on and seeing something of what once was. A forgotten thing in this re-done world.

It was like the word came to me subconsciously.

It looked safe, but I knew that wasn’t the case. This experiment was supposed to be dangerous, so where was the danger? It was a gut feeling. I knew the danger was there, I felt as if there was something lurking beyond me. There were things I had no idea of. Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming sense of fear. I didn’t know what to expect, nor did I have any intelligence on this landscape. It was all just based on observing and learning along the way.

I was completely alone and unknowledgeable in this place.

It seemed too calm right now. How could this be a hazardous place? There were dangers ahead that I was not aware of, that I was not prepped for.

With much hesitance, I took another step forward, then another, until I was walking at a quick pace along the icy, plain tundra.

The large backpack was heavy on my back, I had to stop a couple times, set it down, then walk again. My toes had become numb, my feet ached. The cold wind stung at my face, bringing tears to my eyes. It was all too much, but I had to keep going. I had to adapt.

The first couple of hours consisted of walking, trudging, mapping. I evaluated the landscape, I watched for anything that seemed dangerous. Watching looking and hearing, I could tell what could be potentially harmful. Instinct was all I had. I had to guess and survive on mere instinct.

I had fallen and scraped my hand a couple of times, I had had encountered a flying bird, larger than any bird I’ve seen. Stay away. Don’t provoke. Those warnings signaled throughout my head.

Food. I needed food. Strength was something I needed. I walked further until I came upon a gap in the ice. A water hole. I touched the liquid, it made a ripple. I couldn’t see into the water, it seemed dark and empty.

I had to think like a wild animal. What would a predator do? Wait. Watch. Listen. Taking out my knife, I sat by the water. Minutes passed, then hours, I still hadn’t moved. I detected movement in the water, it created an effect. Bending ever so slightly, so I wouldn’t disturb the thing, I quickly reached into the water and grabbed. I was surprised to find that I had gotten a small fish. Enough to eat. Taking my knife, I carved into the animal. I had matches, but no logs. There was nothing to cook it with, raw meat would have to do.

The flesh was slimy. I chewed hastily then swallowed. I repeated in my head a phrase that kept me going. It’s for your strength, it’s for your worth. I ate it all.

After the meal, I walked on. I didn’t come across anything as I ventured on. But, that ended soon. I heard a low growl come from behind me. I turned. Standing about three feet away from me was a very large white beast. It was white and furry all over. Its teeth were sharp. Its claws were long and pointed. Its tail was a stub. Its eyes were black and beady. Teeth and claws. That meant danger. It meant death.

I didn’t know what to do. The beast was slowly coming towards me. Running seemed like a good option, but something told me not to make a quick move. I had to be slow and smart.

Holding my knife in a tight grip, I slowly backed up, it came closer. My instinct told me not to turn my back on it. Darting my eyes around, I looked for something, anything to seek shelter in.

Turning my head slightly, I peered into the distance. I could see something. A hole in the ground. Bingo. It was something.

I willed my feet to move faster as I backed up, I needed to get far enough away to quickly get away from the killer.

We were in an intense stare off. My heart was beating rapidly; I could feel myself sweating in the coldness of the air. Suddenly, it roared angrily. I took that as my cue to run.

Turning, I quickly propelled my feet forward, feeling the backpack move with my sprint. I ran as fast as I could. Not listening to logic anymore. The vibrations of the beast running after me was clear. Its growls and grunts mixed in with my erratic breathing.

Suddenly, the beast got a hold of me. It lashed its large paw out and slashed me across the arm. Stinging sensations coursed throughout me. Then, came the pain. The stench of blood was clear. Trying to crawl away on the ground, I took my knife and slashed, managing to slice it through the animal’s fur. It roared angrily and halted its chase for a moment. It was enough time for me to get up and start running again.

I scurried away again and came across the hole. It seemed to be a series of caves in the ground, I was able to squeeze into a thin hole into an ice cave. The beast came up to it then got up on its hind legs and heaved its front paws on the ice. It rumbled but didn’t break. After a few more tries, the animal got on all fours and growled threateningly. It attempted to put its paw into the hole, but was too large to crawl into.

That continued for a few minutes. Me backed up against the ice wall, then the unfamiliar beast banging and clawing at the ice.

Suddenly, the animal stopped its actions. I grew curious. Looking through the hole, I saw it running of in a scared manner. At first I was joyful, but then I wondered what scared it off. Perhaps a larger predator?

Before I could think more of it, the pain in my arm came back. Looking through my backpack, I found some cloths. Wrapping the fabric securely around my wound, I tied it so that it would stop the bleeding. Zipping the pack back up, I rested against the wall of the cave, then decided to keep on going.

Crawling out of the cave, I came back out into the fading light. Night was coming. I started walking, then stopped as I felt a vibration. Feeling fear seep back into me, I looked around for the beast. It was nowhere to be found.

Shrugging, I started walking again but halted when the vibration came again. I turned around and widened my eyes in shock when I saw a wave of fluff and white substance heading towards me. It was much larger and more intimidating than the animal. It seemed to swallow the ground it coursed over.

My instincts told me to run, I listened. Taking off, I ran across the landscape, attempting to outrun the flowing snow. It was no use. The wave caught up to me, enveloping me in dark coldness. I felt the breath taken out of me as I was swallowed by whiteness.

My vision faded as I let unconsciousness overtake me. Letting the snow overpower and control me.

When I woke up, I assumed I was dead. But, I could still feel. How was I to know if I was gone or not? I felt myself become panicked as I was trapped under a layer of fluffy snow. I moved around helplessly. The lack of air caused me to slightly feel suffocated.

Deep breaths. I told myself. I needed to think, I needed to use my instinct. Calming down, I started to dig upwards. Moving layers out of my way, I made it to the top, then finally breathed air. It seemed to be dawn as I came out into the dim light.

My whole body was sore, my injured arm hurt. I ached. Crawling out, I attempted to stand, then fell. I groaned. I realized that my backpack was nowhere to be found. Looking around for the knife, I couldn’t find it either.

I ran my hands over my body, checking for broken bones. There was none. It was a miracle I was even alive. A mere joyful event. There was no special purpose for me, no destined thing awaiting me, I simply held on and got myself out. I survived myself. I made it happen. Fate was never something I believed in, or destiny.

After crawling some, I made it onto my legs, then started at a quick pace again. The worst was over, I survived an avalanche, I escaped a beast, I fixed myself up. I survived. I was strong, I was not weak. I would not lose.

The motivation for proving myself kept me going. I dodged a couple of tiny canine like animals, I fell and got back up, I didn’t let anything stop me. I made it through the dangers of this unknown land.

Hours later, I came across the ending point. My time was up. When I got back to the base, people were around me. Poking, asking questions, testing me. Evaluating me. They ran me through scans, they looked at the footage that they had gotten from when I was tagged. It had a camera that was installed.

They were pleased. I was deemed with the potential of strength; I was deemed worthy of being better than others. I was a survivor of the wild, of the horrid experiments that dictated who we are, how we act.

It wasn’t until after I had made it through that I realized the true meaning of life. I didn’t understand why I needed to even prove myself. I was lost and confused. There was nothing I could do about my doubtful thoughts. It was done. I had to live with the pride of making it through, then the guilt of knowing that some didn’t pass. Some are outcasts in the world, doomed to know that they didn’t make it, that they couldn’t prove themselves.

I was one of the lucky one's that made it through. The guilt of that would gnaw at me for nights. 

I adapted to the cold, I adapted to the ache, I tolerated the dangers. I gained potential in the new world. So, then why wasn’t I happy or satisfied? Simple, I realized the truth. I thought and I finally understood. None of this matters. It's only a sick game in this new world. A game of tricks and deception. I didn't have to go though some wild adventure to know I was worth something. I shouldn't have to gain approval from higher people. 

My potential was already there. Everyone's potential was already there, the leaders' just didn't realize it.

Short Story- Her Disastrous Infatuation

Love can be something quick. It can be a temporary feeling that fades after a while. Vanishes once it’s clear your love will not be returned. Or, it can be long-standing and painful. Resting within you, breaking you, causing grief and madness.

Either they requite it, or you’re left with loving an impossible love. Either in love with the idea of being with the human, or in love with the actual body and soul, craving them. Needing their touch and presence. Simply wanting them and nothing else.

Love can be innocent and small, or a fire that burns for ages. A fire that is unexplainable. Love can be finding them adorable, wanting to make them happy, or enjoying their company. Or, loving someone can be knowing you’d die for them. It can be romantic and strong. A passion that never fades. A sensation that becomes trapped within a being. A feeling that can either break or put together. Something that can destroy someone or make them happy and peaceful.

It’s this or that. Either and or. Either they’ll love you back, or the feelings become unrequited, and you’re destined to either break apart and love them forever, or move on and find a different and better love. Either hold on or accept. It’s a choice between heart and mind. Your heart wants to love them, but your mind knows it’s best to leave it behind. The decision is based on who the person is. How they think will determine which they’ll choose.

Love can be dangerous. Intimate. Innocent. Sweet. Passionate. Love can be so many things. It can be seen and shown in different ways. Love is either simple or complex. It can be easy or hard. It all depends on the lover and partner.

Simply loving someone is difficult, but falling in love can ruin a person. You either fall in love happily or tragically. It either ends badly or expectedly. A this or that concept.

She had loved him since grade school. He didn’t know of her feelings. They were friends, good friends. Very close buddies. He’d listen to her, she’d rant about different things. They’d tease each other, hang out together, talk with each other for hours on end. Trusted each other, knew each other. They were simply two people lucky enough to meet. Luck. The start of their friendship was based off of luck.

The day she had bumped into him, and spilled her drink onto his shirt in the cafeteria in fifth grade, was one of the best days of her life. She’d always wondered about what would have happened if she wasn’t feeling sad or clumsy that day. Pondered over if she still would have met him. They became friends over a simple chance of meeting. She was thankful for that event. It was merely a random happening that formed into a wonderful butterfly effect.

She had thought he felt something. There was a small flare of hope that maybe there could be something more between them. His signals were misjudged, not looked at correctly. She mistook his actions of affections for love. In his mind, she was a friend that he cared about, platonically. In hers, it was so much more. Corrupt feelings. Deep thoughts and emotions that rattled her to the bone.

Everything seemed right. She used to always believe in destiny and soulmates. She hopelessly fell for him, and believed they were spiritually connected. Fairytales blinded her. Faith was her ultimate downfall. She put too much faith in an unreliable concept. When the mask was taken off, when the curtains fell down, she was devastated. Betrayed. She felt as if she had been lied to. Only, it was her that had been deceiving herself. Setting up her own destruction and misconceptions.

In love was what she was, in a dangerous and passionate way. She loved him fiercely. Nothing could break their bond. Nobody. She was certain they’d be friends forever. Her blindness and innocence ruined her. It broke her when reality seeped in. Damaged. Heartbroken. Unloved. She became desperate and lonely in the aftermath. It never occurred to her that one day he wouldn’t be there anymore. That, her future she wanted would never come to be true.

He was gone suddenly after graduation. Vanished from her life as if she meant nothing to him. Gone in a flash. Lost was now what she was. The sorrow was consuming, overwhelming. It hurt her to know that she may have lost him forever, that she’d never speak with him again. Never hear his attractive laugh, never look into those adoring eyes ever again. She didn’t know whether or not she’d ever get the chance to speak to him again, to interact with him. The reality punched her deeply in the gut, leaving unhealed holes and wounds.

Regrets filled her. If she had known he would disappear, she would have done anything to make him stay. But, she couldn’t go back in time. It saddened her.

Crazed and isolated. Months were spent crying and remembering. Becoming nostalgic over past memories. Sobbing over what could have been. She missed him dearly. She missed him as if he had died, as if he didn’t exist anymore. Her love for him had kept her up at night. The remembrance of him and their friendship shook her to sorrow and insanity. Every day, she had hoped that he would come back. She waited. Used patience. It wasn’t enough though. She had wasted her years waiting for an unrealistic dream.

Never thinking she’d feel his presence again, she fell into a void. A deep hole full of emptiness and regrets that couldn’t be painted over. That one love had destroyed who she was, what she could have been. Her powerful and sentimental emotions controlled her, shook her. Taunted her. She believed there was no one else, only him. Nobody else could compare. She fell into a horrid state of close-mindedness.  After a couple years of living in agony and despondency, of wishes and dead hopes, fate decided to step in. To her, it was fate. In reality, it was luck. It was simply a mere, joyful coincidence. An unexpected event of passing by each other. A rare happening.

She’d been at a coffee shop in the early afternoon. He happened to be there too. Her name was called; she went up to get her drink. He was paying for his beverage. The moment she glanced at the person next to her, she instinctively knew who he was. She had never forgotten his face. The moment she saw the young man standing a few inches beside of her, her heart had leapt with joy. Happiness consumed her once again. The glow was back. For a mere moment, she felt as if everything would be okay. It lasted long enough to make her whole again.

“Myles?” She asked in a surprised yet cheerful voice. It was the day she’d always hoped for. He had returned into her life. She believed that if she waited long enough, her dream would find its way back.

He turned. She grinned. Even after a couple of years, he still looked the same. The same short yet thick black hair. His same brown eyes. Ones that you could get lost in. They were so soft. Gentle. She had always admired his looks. Admired his personality. She loved everything about him, to his flaws and negatives. To his positives and good aspects. His chiseled jaw. His inviting body. Everything. In her mind, he was perfect. It was an overpowering and affectionate feeling.

He seemed shocked to see her. As if he never thought about running into an old friend from the past. As if, this day wasn’t something he had thought of. “Carmen; hey.” He spoke with a deeper voice than she had remembered, then had smiled at her. His smile was something that she desperately loved. It was friendly. Inviting. It was warm and comforting. His smile had broken her out of sad thoughts. Lifted her spirits when she felt down or uncheerful. It had cured her.

Playing with the lid of her cup, she chuckled lowly and timidly smiled. She was so nervous. The butterflies were erupting in her stomach, turning into leaps and twists. Jumping around her insides. They eventually shaped into uncontrollable fireworks. Her hands shook, she felt wobbly. His effect on her was overwhelming, she could barely think straight. Breathe. Think. Focus. She attempted to calm herself.

She suddenly felt horribly self-conscious of herself.

Say something. Keep him around. She needed to do something. Not wanting to lose him once more.

“Yeah, funny running into you like this heh. How’ve you been?” Myles shoved one hand in his jean pocket, while holding his drink in the other and scrunching his cute and well-shaped nose.

“I’ve been alright, thanks. College is pretty rough. What about you? It sure has been a while.” He chuckled and sat down at a near table, she followed.

“That’s great and yeah, I know what you mean.” She paused. Not wanting to tell him the truth. The truth of her brokenness and sadness, she simply told him what he wanted to hear. Asking how someone is, is simply a habit of human nature. It’s typical behavior to ask how someone is, whether you care or not. It’s predictable to not say how you really are, you simply lie, or not tell the whole truth. That’s what she did. “I’ve been okay as well, busy with my job and studying. The usual.” She twisted and tugged at her brownish-blonde curly hair. An old habit that she did when she felt nervous or anxious.

He grinned. His ravishing dimples obvious to see. She internally melted a bit more. He leaned closer from across the small, round table. His arms set on top of the wood. “Ah, still so responsible. Where do you work?”

This was good. Conversation. Catching up. Maybe, this would be her second chance. Just maybe, hopefully. She desperately didn’t want this meet to end. They had finally been reunited. She wanted it to last as long as possible. “Yeah. I work at an animal shelter near here. It keeps me busy and distracted with cleaning and looking after the animals and stuff.”

He nodded, sipping his tasty-looking beverage. “Oh, still hate pet stores?” He asked in a teasing and amused tone of voice. She shrugged. “Yeah. Animal shelters are more safe and trusting.” He snorted.

“Good to see you haven’t changed.” She lightened. He remembered a trait about her. He admired something about her. That had to be a good sign. Right? Anything seemed hopeful to her at this point. It brightened her day to know that he liked something about her, simple as that. Whether he meant it in a loving way or not. Anything was pleasing to her when it came to Myles.

“Right. Anyways, do you live around here?” She secretly hoped he did. How desperately she wanted him to be near her again. She wanted to rekindle their old friendship, their inseparable bond. She wanted her dream to come true at last.  

He shook his head. Her heart dropped. What he said next, mentally upset her. Carved deep into her invisible scars. “No, I live a few hours away. I’m just visiting for the weekend to see my girlfriend who goes to college around here.”

Girlfriend. Of course there was a girlfriend. There was always someone else, something else. There was always someone else that they loved or love. Always. Whether it was a good friend, ex-love, present lover, something that was more important etc. There isn’t a time where your love for someone is perfect. There’s usually always an obstacle, someone else to compete with. There’s always that one person that stands between you and him. It’s sad how you’re often so close, yet so far.

Happy endings never come easily. Or sometimes, not at all.

That one word, girlfriend, pained her. She hated that word being spoken by him, when talking about someone else. She could feel her breathing halt. No. This couldn’t be. She was disappointed. Of course he was in a relationship, of course the universe would put something tragic in their happy meeting. Nothing was ever right when it came to hopeful feelings towards him. Something always got in the way. There was always an obstacle. Then another. Then more. Always something. She got tired of it. For once, she wished something could happen with nothing in the way. Her heart seemed to break and smash itself into pieces at his sentence. All her hopes were turned into doubts. It hurt her to know he feels a deep affection towards another girl. That he loved someone else. The truth smashed into her like a rock being thrown hurriedly at her.

“Oh, that’s neat. She must be very lucky.” Carmen tried not to show her disappointment. She desperately tried not to let her voice crack, to let the tears fall. Her love for him was a selfish kind. A corrupt kind. It was obsessive and deep. It ran through her veins like an addictive drug.

She wanted him to be happy, but she wanted it to be with her. She couldn’t feel happy for another girl who wasn’t her. She was glad he was content, but wished it didn’t have to do with another being. The girl really was lucky to be in the position she’s in. She had him. Carmen did not.

He smiled wistfully. There was a look of pure adoration and love on his face. The emptiness returned. She felt like sobbing. Screaming. Yelling out her frustrations and sorrows. She wanted to stay, yet she wanted to leave, to let out her grief in peace. Carmen didn’t want to seem weak and pathetic.

Swallowing the choking sensation, she attempted to show happiness for him when he spoke. “I’m the lucky one. She’s great honestly, I feel like she’s the one, you know?” He paused. Then spoke again.

“What about you? Any love interests? I remember how you hadn’t ever been with anyone back in school.”

If only he knew. He was her love interest. Always had been. How could she have gotten with someone else, when it was him that she wanted? Her burning love for him would never fade it seemed. She was cursed to love a taken man. Cursed to love someone who didn’t return her strong feelings. Cursed. Luck simply wasn’t on her side, not ever. Nothing was. There was always a silver lining of bad in the good that happened.  “No, not at the moment.” She lied smoothly. She wanted to yell out her secretive and buried confession, but she knew nothing good would happen out of it. She’d feel foolish and insecure. He’d feel uncomfortable and awkward. It would end in a regrettable mess.

He nodded in an understanding way. “Ah, that’s too bad. I’m sure you’ll find someone. You’re a good person.” If only he knew how much that compliment meant to her. She took everything he said out of context. She over-thought his words. Illusions were formed within her. She was deluded. She couldn’t focus or think logically when it came to him. She lived inside her head, and ignored the reality of situations and words.

“Yeah, maybe.” She noted in a small voice, glancing away from his unwavering stare. She looked at the occasional passing by couples on the outside of the cafe. She observed people who were in love inside of the building. She envied them. They got their happy ending. She didn’t. The one person she wanted, wasn’t meant for her. It was the sad reality that she couldn’t and wouldn’t accept. Jealously and sudden anger flared within her.

When she glanced back at him, he was checking his watch to see the time. Oh no. This couldn’t be it. She could feel it was about to happen. He would leave again. She’d be thrown back into the horrendous darkness. Then, the words she didn’t want to hear, were spoken. “Yeah. Well it’s been great talking to you, Carmen. But, I should probably go, don’t want to keep her waiting.” His lover was his first priority of course. Not her. She was nothing now. Just a mere speck of his past. Just a fading memory. Simply a good friend who he’d lost chemistry with. The spark wasn’t there for him anymore, just nostalgia and remembrance. For him, it was always nothing more but a happy friendship, where two people cared about each other. Nothing more. Nothing less.

She nodded a bit sadly and tried to hide the disappointment bubbling within her. She couldn’t show that she was bothered. “Yeah, okay. It was nice seeing you too, Myles. It really was.” If Myles had noticed her depressing tone of voice, he didn’t comment on it. He simply smiled and nodded, then stood up. She mimicked his actions. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she glanced up at him longingly. For the better, she had to keep quiet.

Myles briefly hugged her. She enjoyed the moment while it lasted. She wanted to remember how it felt to have his strong arms encase her. To be near him. To sniff at his heavenly scent. To feel the sensations of his body against hers. She welcomed the warmth of his friendly and innocent hug. Her arms wrapped tight around his neck. He leaned down and pecked her cheek innocently, she blushed and felt flustered. Then, it was gone. His arms left her waist, his presence became distant. The nearness was over. The coldness returned. She had missed his hugs. She remembered how he would always embrace her in a long and comforting hug when she was upset. He’d sit with her for hours, lay with her. Be there for her. He was always good to her. She was and would always be grateful for that. Grateful for him.

They smiled at each other. Then, they said their reluctant goodbyes. They waved. Then, he walked towards the doorway. She followed and watched as he turned and glanced at her one more time, running his eyes over her features, then was out the door. She watched from the pavement as he vanished into the midst of the world, leaving her grasp once again. He was gone. She was devastated. If only things had turned out differently.  

Carmen wanted to call out to him. But, her voice had left her. She stood there, sadly staring at his fading back. There was nothing she could do. Powerless.  She desperately wished she had gotten the courage to get his information, to try and keep in touch with him. Her cowardliness and fear of rejection stood in the way. Like always.

Watching him walk away. Her heart tearing and breaking once more. She ruined herself again. The wound cut itself deeper within her, scarring her. Mentally paining her. They were doomed from the start. She was cursed from the beginning. It was a hapless happening. She was simply cursed to grieve and wish. To wait forever with nothing to arrive. She had only set herself up for a drastic tragedy.

There was never a ‘meant to be’. There was never a him and her. Only, her and hopeful thinking. Wishing her mental scenarios could play out for real. The sad reality is that he went on with life without her, she spent the rest of it falling deeper into madness and numbness. Her love for him had given her hope, yet had managed to crush her. Carmen’s feelings had been fragile. Dangerous. They sent her over the edge. Too much.

Carmen had realized later that he didn’t see her the same way as she saw him. Maybe in the future, they’d run into each other again. They’d greet. Talk. Then leave. Nothing more. It would create a temporary joy, then would leave her dispirited once more. Her feelings became played with, like an amusing toy to the universe. She was doomed to sob, he was blessed to live and love happily. There was no fate, she gave up on that foolish myth. Only hope and events. Only wants and delusions.

There was merely miracles and bad luck. Her love for him had destroyed her hopes. They burned her wishful thoughts. They buried the girl she used to be. Since her love for him was awakened, she had fallen. Everyday. Deeper. Tragically. In the end, there was nothing left but memories and a painful, sentimental, dangerous love. A love that could never be requited. A love that could never be shown. A void that would always be empty. That’s the way it would always be for her. Forever, until death.

Unexpected Tragedy of Death- Short Story Piece.

Death was something that people usually feared. It was something that was supposed to happen to an older person, to someone who’s ready and prepared. Death is either unexpected or predicted. It can be scary or peaceful. Death isn’t supposed to be something that was wanted, that was craved and begged for. Death was supposed to happen when someone’s time is up, and there’s nothing else they can do, or nothing else in life for them. It’s the last option, the final happening.

She didn’t think so though. She believed there was nothing left, that her life was over. Purpose wasn’t something she believed in. Nor did she buy the destiny card. There were only coincidences, happenings and chances. No such thing as ‘destined fate or purpose’. No such thing as ‘so much more to live for’. She wanted them to understand, to realize that it was her choice to leave the living. She decided there was nothing left. She made the conscious choice to stand at the edge of that cliff, to feel the calmness of the wind, to finally feel free. She craved an escape, then she got it. Her thoughts and insanity had drove her towards a point of pure madness and sorrow. Nothing helped her. Nobody could cure her. She was poisoned, there was no other way out. It had gotten too much, so she wanted out.

Delilah didn’t believe in an afterlife. Once she hit the ground, there would be nothing. Her brain would disconnect, the sensations of life and feelings would be no more. She’s simply be a broken corpse, destined to rot beneath ground. People would feel sorry, they’d become sorrowful, but it would pass. She would be gone; her corpse is simply a body that she used. A layer of skin. The real her was the way she acted, the way she had went out of her way to act kind and loving. The way she behaved. Her innocent personality. Those were the things that should matter, not her skin and body, they shouldn’t miss that. It’s the memories that break people. It’s the remembrance of their presence, the nostalgia that hits them at night of their moments and talks together. It wasn’t the body that they missed. It was the soul.

They’d realize who she was and what kind of person she was after she’s gone. They’d think about her actions, they’d want her back, to see what they didn’t see before. It would kill them mentally. She wanted them to feel that pain. She wanted to die, to show them loneliness and sorrow. She wanted to feel the sweet release of death to save herself from the pain, then to endure emotional pain on others. It was her way of vengeance. Of showing them what they lost. Only, she wouldn’t be there to observe their guilt and despair. She wouldn’t be there to see what she caused. She’d be gone, and they couldn’t get her back, not ever. It’s the reality of the situation that pains them. There is no more of Delilah Patterson, only the fading memory.

Standing at the edge of the high-up cliff, looking down at the ground below, she knew this is what she wanted, she knew it was right for her. Delilah’s mind was clear. It was a sober decision made by an unstable mess. She wouldn’t back out. It seemed okay to her.

First it had started with insecurity and doubts. Then came the persistent, negative thoughts. Over-thinking. Stress. Anxiety. Insults. Problems. Pressure of family. Depression. More symptoms. Crazed looks, abandonment from friends. Mental illness. Anger and sorrow, tears and shaking. Panicked nights. It built up over the years, it killed her mentally, emotionally, internally. She was never okay. It slowly ruined her, slowly caused a burning madness within her that nobody could relate to, that no one could comprehend. It was serious, yet everyone considered her feelings and problems a joke. It made her angry. It made her feel unwanted and silly.

Stupid girl, nobody cares about your intense sadness and issues. She’d always think to herself. It was too difficult to handle. Having good friends leave because of her mental illness worries, having them get bored of her distress. It couldn’t be understandable by her. Why would they suddenly leave? Why is it that we stopped suddenly talking? She wanted to know the answers, yet never got them.

She wanted to make them regret that decision to leave her. She wanted to make them want to go back in time, to have tried to help her. It made her happy to know they’d suffer. She was cruel in that way. Cruelty was something that became a choice of hers. Acting harsh wasn’t something that was a part of her, it was a simple doing caused by feelings and actions. Taking another step closer to the edge, she felt another piece of her lighten. Free. She smiled and closed her eyes. Everything was calm. Numbness overtook her. None of her past issues were there, it’s like they vanished in that moment. Escape. Escape. Escape. She repeated those words inside of her head, craving the need to get away.

It was clear to her that she wouldn’t get better, only worse things would happen. She didn’t think it, she knew it. Only her knew what was best for herself. Nobody else. Nobody understood. Nobody really knew her. No one. She was alone, alone with herself. She was content with that.

There was no sentimental and emotional note. No warning as to what she was doing, it was simply like any other ordinary day. Nobody knew of what would happen today. It was unpredicted. Unexpected. Her death would be something nobody saw coming, that everyone was unprepared for. It would leave them in a mess.

To her, death wasn’t a big deal. So, she wouldn’t make her death a big deal. There was nothing planned or calculated about this, she was simply going with her instinct, doing what felt right. Jump. Splat. Die. That’s all that would happen. No speech, no tears, quick release.

Taking a breath and looking at her surrounding, she blinked once more. Fiddled her fingers once more. Glanced at the beauty of nature once more, for the last time. Her mind was blank, her conscious was clear, she was ready.

Leap. That’s what she did. Simple as that. She jumped without a second thought and fell through the air. Her hair whipped around her face. Eyes closed. She fell peacefully, smiling.

Somewhere close to the final end, a thought came through her head. A doubtful thought. She wondered if this was right, if she should keep trying. Her hesitance spooked her. But, it was too late. Nothing could be done about that one pestering thought. That thought that made her reconsider her choice. It was already done.

Her end came. The ruined body hit the solid ground. The sensations were gone. She had fallen into the void. Darkness overcame her. There was nothing left. Simply a broken corpse, left to be found by a passing by stranger. To be observed and evaluated. To be prodded then buried. To spend the rest of time beneath soil and grasses.

The world went on; her death was a mere tragic speck in the universe. Only a few people knew, out of billions. The sorrow would be temporary, then there would be acceptance. Her want for vengeance would be soiled by the reality. She was wrong. But, she wouldn’t know that. She expected things that didn’t happen. She assumed. She planned. But it failed. Her reality, and the actual reality, were two different things. She wouldn’t be around to realize that though. Time would pass, she’d be forgotten.

Like a passing piece of history. Her vengeance was a mere delusion of what she craved. Nothing is ever the same, or ever turns out the way we wanted or expected in our heads. Always different. Always screwing us. It’s simply the sad way the universe works.