“Oh, you didn’t hear? He asked her out.”
That was all it took. The signs were quite too obvious. Her life was being sucked out of her like a vacuum, until the last of her moped around like a lifeless figure, waiting to be taken, just barely, alive. I could see her stomach drop to her gut, her heart being broken into a million pieces. I could her shoulders hunch, and her eyes start to droop. She nodded her head, just barely, and gathered the rest of her strength and walked silently out of the loud and very excited classroom. I watched her limp body drag herself out the door and turn the corner.
I glanced back at her empty desk, where her lively figure sat just a minute ago. Where she sat atop the wood, feet planted on the desk beside hers, taking advantage of the lazy substitute. Where her smile was plastered on her face, her auburn hair laying delicately on her shoulders, and her eyes ablaze with passion. Passion and wonderment for the boy she longed her; passion where ever her imagination had them going. You could tell she wasn’t listening to her friend babble on about the latest gossip, but dreaming of a world where they could be together. Where he would pick her, pick the underdog. Where best friends would become lovers.
But this world doesn’t have such a thing.
I watched her friend stand for a moment in utter confusion, then absent-mindedly shrug her shoulders and move on to a new group. I watched the people around her, with absolute hatred burning them. None of them took notice, none of them cared.
I took off from my side of the room and made a dash for the door, not caring about the questions being fired in my direction. I turned the corner and ran the same way she dragged herself. Suddenly, I heard a noise coming from the next hallway. I silently crept up and looked around the corner. To this day I regret doing so.
This poor girl was broken. Sitting lifeless in the corner, huddled in a ball. The tears were streaming down her face, staining her shirt. Her whole body was shaking with sobs, with her hair matted to her face like glue being stuck to paper. Her heart was being stabbed, pulled, and broken with every breath. It took all her might not to make a sound. She didn’t see me then, she never would. There I stood, watching her, wishing to help this helpless girl, but knowing it would do no good. The boy she loved loved another, and would never return her love. He would never understand why she stayed up late to help him with his problems, or why she never got mad at him. Why she loved all his imperfections, and defended him whenever he needed her. Why she would make the most heartfelt gifts during his birthday, or write the longest texts that required the utmost thoughts. He would never realize that he was the best thing she had in her life, and that he’s her first love. He would never understand, because he couldn’t see, or rather admit, the love of her. His obliviousness is what hurts. Her work and love she gave him, all the time she spent trying to show him she would always be there for him.
It would never show. So she gave up.
