HIM....

chapter 1

I stood looking out the view of my widow pondering, wondering was what we had not good enough, was my fault? Was my love not good enough for him to stay? I was a mess up and too late. There is not much to see from my window im on the second floor of our two-story house, but it has a good enough view spot to think. To my right you see trees forest I never liked going back there but he loved seeking adventure, I did too but after the story, I was told never wanted to go back there. He also loved the fact that I was scared to go back there which made him want to drag me out there more. I remember it quite well he had brought me home from school and my mum instead he stay for dinner he was always just the best friend the guy I would hang out with every second with. We have not known each other our entire life but it was only 3 years yet it feels that way like he has been by my side since birth but he has not and now he left my side. Left me to figure out stuff on my own, do my studies and homework by myself. To everyone, he appeared to be my best friend but to me more. I Did not know at the time I probably would have but decided not to border myself with that thought. That one day he could be the boy-well man by then that my little girl gets to call dad. But I guess that was not meant to be us.

My family always got along with him. But my dad did not at first because dad will be dads they don't like their daughter hanging out with a boy. That they will like each either or be more than just friends. He was right though we did like each other. But that took time to figure out but I guess we waited too long, I guess the time was not on our side but when is it ever. My mum had made us soup and I made scones. I like to bake but my mum not so much. She has the potential to cook and bake well but she doesn't like to cook. Mum grew up on a farm where all her sisters loved to be in the kitchen and help my gran but she on the other one would rather be out on the field with my grandpa and her two brothers. My gran always said I have no clue what happened to the last child. She preferred being out picking fruit and lifting heavy things than helping make food in the kitchen. Gran told me so many stories of mom how she dressed and act. I had to laugh a lot. But dad on the other hand grew up pretty good, was not rich or poor but had the money for food on the table every night, and did not have to work like mum. Grandpapa was a businessman and is still is but at the time not as big as he is now and dad would oddly like to help my grandma in the kitchen along with his sisters. Both my mum and dad liked playing sports and getting good grades. That is actually how they meant playing basketball and my mum beating him but dad claims he let her.

Funny how that was how I and he meant. We were playing volleyball in school and he served the ball but he was so bad at volleyball that it somehow came to my side of the court. The gym was divided into two sections on one half of the court had a net and was girls on girls because the guys were soo egotistic that they couldn't stand to lose to a girl. The ball came flying at me as I was about to spike the girl who had been bullying me since the day I got to my new school. But he had to ruin it and hit me in the head. It was surprisingly hard that I dropped to the ground and hit my head against the court. He quickly ran over to me saying sorry, sorry while everyone just froze and said ahh or grunted just at the sight of imaging how it felt to have your head hit the gym floor. While of course Ryle, the girl I was trying to hit, laughed at me. When he got me he held my head and asked how many fingers he was holding up and I told him he was holding up three if I remember correctly. This idiot who somehow managed to serve a ball across the court to hit me told me to follow the one finger he was holding up and I did as he told. I asked what that did, why I had to follow his fingers. He said he had no clue saw it in a movie once. And at that, I hit him, rolled my eyes, and tried getting up when our gym teacher walked in and asked what happened.

Some random guy told her he hit me in the head with a ball and that I hit my head pretty hard on the floor. She made him the person who hit me in the head take me to the nurse's office to get ice for my head because it was starting to hurt, she really thought I would be safe with him in the room even closer than we were in the last room. But I have to thank her and hate her for giving me an amazing person but also because if she did not send us off together I would have not meant him. I would not have to lose him and feel all this pain, this fault, this emptiness. After that day we spent in the nurse's office together waiting for my mum to pick me up. We were inseparable. Wondering how we never noticed each other before. But to be fair I had only moved to that school halfway through freshman year. He told me while I was getting ice that he wanted to keep my company at the least for causing me to be there in the first place. I kept telling him to leave that he would get in trouble. He did not care and neither did the nurse seeing as he knew her in a friendly way, but mostly because he could skip his test he had in bio with a valid excuse. We never once left each other since that day then. But he did leave, guess it finally kicked in after the first day in the nurse's office that I wanted him to leave but that was then and I need him now. My mum, me, him, and my uncle went outside to get some air also because he thought that being outside in the cold would cool down the scones.

He has always loved when I baked and had so many weird ideas. Like once I told him I had to cancel our study session because I was making cookies for my little brother's school party. But before I could tell him what I was baking for he hung up. It did not bother me much. It was a little hurt that he hung up and annoyed but got back to baking 40 cookies like chocolate chip, snickerdoodle, Hershey chocolate, peanut butter cookies, and more. Then when I was putting my batch of snickerdoodles in the oven I heard a car in the driveway I thought it was my mum but then he walked through our front door in his red comic hoodie I got him for Christmas with his black slacks on and his black converse with his schoolbag in hand. I put my mittens down and gave him an odd look. He said he heard I was baking and would be my taste tester. My "Anton Ego" he said while doing the chef kiss thingy I laughed because he knew Ratatouille was my favorite movie and would laugh too. After all, a "15-year-old" favorite movie was Ratatouille. But to his disappointment, he ended up not being my taste tester because my little brother wanted to be it and he was my helper but a terrible one. He kept trying to put flour on my face or splash me with it. Lucky thing we cleaned up in time before my mum came one because then I would be in so much trouble.

( so what do you think about my so call story?)