Whisper In A Moonlit Night

Grief

The next day, the sky was overcast, heavy with gray clouds that threatened rain. Bella was running late. She had stayed up far too late the night before, caught in a whirlwind of thoughts after her conversation with Austin. She had given him her notebook—her poems, her heart. Now, with everything that had been swirling in her mind, she hadn’t been able to sleep properly.

She hurried down the street, her bag slung over her shoulder, her thoughts distracted. Her feet moved quickly over the pavement as she tried to make up for lost time, but her mind wasn’t on the road. It was back on that bench, replaying the look in Austin’s eyes when she had handed him her most treasured possession. The memory of it stirred something inside her—a mix of pride, fear, and something she couldn’t quite name.

She checked her phone for the time. She was definitely late. With a sigh, she picked up her pace, almost breaking into a jog as she approached the intersection near the school. She was so focused on getting there, so lost in her own thoughts, that she barely noticed the world around her—the cars, the people, the noise of the city waking up.

As she reached the crosswalk, she barely glanced up. The light was green for pedestrians, so she stepped onto the road, her mind still far away.

But she didn’t see the car. It came speeding down the road, its driver distracted, eyes not on the street but on a phone. And by the time Bella stepped into the intersection, it was too late. The screech of tires filled the air, sharp and sudden, but Bella didn’t hear it until it was too close.

There was a loud crash—a sound that seemed to shatter the air around her—and then everything went still.

Bella lay crumpled on the street, her body still and broken, the life that had filled her just moments before now drained away. Her bag had fallen to the side, its contents scattered across the asphalt—papers, pens, and, most painfully, her notebook, its pages fluttering weakly in the wind.

People screamed, cars screeched to a halt, and a crowd began to gather. But none of it mattered. Bella was gone, her light extinguished in an instant.

The world seemed to hold its breath in the aftermath, the weight of the tragedy settling over the street like a heavy fog.

Later that morning, the school hallways buzzed with hushed whispers and shocked gasps. The news spread like wildfire—Bella was gone. Students who had seen the accident, or heard the rumors, couldn’t stop talking. It was the kind of news that no one wanted to believe, but no one could ignore.

Caden was sitting at his desk when he overheard a group of girls whispering near the door. He wasn’t paying much attention, too busy scrolling through his phone, when a word caught his ear—Bella. His head snapped up, and he focused on their conversation.

"Did you hear? Bella got hit by a car this morning. They say she… didn’t make it."

For a moment, the world around him froze. He felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room, like the ground had vanished beneath his feet. Bella? No, it couldn’t be. He stood up abruptly, his chair screeching against the floor, his heart racing.

It couldn’t be true.

But as the whispers grew louder, as more and more students spoke her name in the past tense, the reality of it started to sink in. He felt an unbearable weight press down on his chest, squeezing the breath from his lungs. It felt like someone had taken his heart and shattered it into a million pieces, each one too small to ever be put back together.

Tears welled up in his eyes, unbidden and unstoppable. His body shook as sobs rose in his throat, and he could no longer hold them back. Caden, who had never been one to show much emotion, felt like he was breaking apart. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the chair, his hands trembling as he tried to process what had just happened.