Pen

Lilli Scribo collected pens.

    At first, it was pens of all colors. Purple, blue, pink, green... Then it was pens from  all kinds of different cities and countries.

    Then it was pens that helped her remember.

...***...

You run your fingers over the seemingly endless collection of pens on what should have been her bookshelf. Smiling softly at the pen from London, remembering that she told you it was to remember you.

...***...

    She kept the glittery, blue, gel pen she was using when her friend Cleo Maleck announced that she was going to swear off boys.

    She kept the lavender stabilo pen from Paris she got for Christmas. Not only because it was the first gift she had ever gotten from her step-father, but because it reminded her of the time her older brother laughed so hard, milk squirted out of his nose.

    She kept the normal, everyday pen with her initials written on them in black sharpie from London because it reminded her of...

...***...

You trail off, unsure and hesitant if you should announce such a private memory to a someone you barely know. Tommy looks at you encouragingly, urging you to go on. You inhale. You exhale. Then you continue.

...***...

Lilli Scribo collected pens.

Lilli Scribo collected memories.

...***...

Tommy looks at you. His face scrunches up and his eyebrows furrow. He taps his chin as though he were deep in thought. "Lilli collected pens," he echoes. You look into his olive green eyes as he asks you a silent question. And what do you do? You inhale. You exhale. You explain.

...***...

   Lilli was beautiful.

    Lilli was wild.

    Lilli was an untamed horse.

A beautiful, wild, untamed horse.

    She needed something.

...***...

You explain your suggestion to start a collection. You act out the entire scene, exaggerating everything and making Tommy laugh. Once he sobers up, he asks, "Sandra, why are you telling me,a stranger.?" The question hangs, suspended in the air, bringing tension into the room.

...***...

Lilli had a brother.

...***...

It was a simple yet cryptic sentence. One that made Tommy's brain want to explode. You smile mysteriously and state, "All will be revealed in due time."

...***...

   Lilli had pretty, raven black hair that cascaded in waves down her back. She had thoughtful, olive green, almond-shaped eyes and a pretty olive tan.

    Her favorite color was red.

    She liked strawberries.

    She was fond of silver eyeshadow.

...***...

Your sentences became shorter and simpler. Tommy stared at you, confused. You resist the urge sigh or roll your eyes. You want to walk out of Lilli's bedroom at that exact moment. Yet you stay. You take a shaky breath, tears pooling in your eyes, and you continue.

...***...

   Lilli died.

...***...

Tommy gapes at you, unaware, thinking that Lilli was alive and well. He believed Lilli had simply moved out. You want to slap him. You want him to wake up and smell the roses. You want to push him off a bridge for not  understanding. Not remembering.

...***...

    Lilli had a brother. His name was Tommy.

...***...

Then you break down. Your sobs are loud and uncontrollable. You can't think straight. You don't care that the very brother of the girl you were best friends with was right in front of you, seemingly hearing the story for the first time. Tommy stares at you, shocked, not even bending down to comfort you.

...***...

    Tommy got amnesia.

...***...

You choke on your sobs.

...***...

    Tommy moved away.

...***...

You hardly notice Tommy had bent down and allowed you to cry and soak his shirt. Your words were muffled. You didn't care.

...***...

I met Tommy again today.

...***...

Tommy's crying now, too. You wrap your arms around him, and he wraps his around you.

...***...

Lilli collected pens.

She collected memories.

LA FIN.