The Boy

She sat on the edge of her bed, with her glasses half way down her face. Sometimes, in the dead of night, she just liked to think. With a look of utter confusion, she stared into the whitish-tan carpet of her room. She wasn't in her room right now, she was lost in her mind, swimming around, lost in a pool that can't be defined by any measure of deepness, only by the virtue of the soul.
Slowly, she swam by her memories. As they sank down, she fought to rise; she struggled to swim up back into the upper level of consciousness. She stared into her childhood, the memories of walking to school alone every morning, and walking back alone every night. She stared into memories of friends calling her names on the playground, but not saying that they were sorry.
She swam past middle school. Floating by her, the memory of her first period in the middle of second period science class. All the boys in class laughing as a red streak showed up on her nice white pair of sweats. She saw herself running into the bathroom crying, covered in her own blood, thinking she was dying, while a teacher went to get a pad for her.
She saw how the memory followed her everywhere she went, the girls that used to be her friends calling her names like "Bloody Mary", insulting her the way they used to in elementary school, still not saying they were sorry.
She saw how the years of torment lead to a downward spiral. First she stopped being able to sleep. The luster of night had gone away, the hope of a new day dwindling, and she prayed for the end.
She watched grade nine sink down, the first time she cut herself to stop the pain, to try and get past the hurt that she felt every single day as the torture kept piling up; writing their names in her arm so she would never forget the hurt that she felt, the deep down hatred and loathing she had for the scum that could do this to her.
Swimming faster up and up through her mind, she saw the tenth grade. She stopped and stared in at what she glimpsed. She saw her mom and dad, crying calling 911 after they found her lying unconscious on the ground with a bottle of pills lying next to her.
She saw her rehab, her therapy, the steps she would go through that didn't make a difference, that just kept her knowing that somewhere out there, the people that did this to her doesn't even care.
Then, she stopped swimming to the surface. She swam towards a memory, except this one wasn't sinking down, deeper into her brain. This memory was gently gliding up, going where she was. She swam into the memory, wanting to fully immerse herself in the past.
There he was. He was standing there right in front of her. The memory she had swam into was the first time they met. She was just sitting at the lunch table all alone, and he had come and sat down right across from her.
"Hi," he said. At first she didn't look up at him. "Don't worry I won't bite." She looked up at him and smiled.
She swam out of the memory. She remembered all of it that she needed to. Happily, she swam up further and further. The times that he had taught her that all people were good if you gave them enough time, the times he brought her to his lunch table and she made friends.
Then the time he had found out she cut herself. The worry flashing through his eyes when she showed him the names of the people etched onto her arm, the memories of worse times that were scarred permanently on her arm as a reminder. She remembered how he kissed each scar, hoping that somehow the scars would go away if he could just kiss them the right way.
She remembered that night. That was the night she found hope. Hope in the form of a boy who never should have even loved her in the first place, but had the decency to do something to change that.
Swimming closer to the top now, she glided past the months that had just happened. One good thing after another it seemed, and she was on a roll. Suddenly, she broke the surface of the water, and she snapped back into reality.
She sat on the edge of her bed, and pushed her glasses up onto her face. It was the dead of night, and she turned around. He was lying there, on her bed, like an angel in disguise.
She folded up her glasses and put them on the nightstand. She lied down, and put an arm around him.
"I don't know where I'd be without you," she whispered softly, less to him than to all that he's done for her.
And with a smile on her face, she drifted to sleep.

I hope you guys liked this. I know I loved it when it was given to me. Kudos to Jacob for actually writing the story! He's not gonna see this but I thought I would mention him anyways.