Once Upon A Dream

I remember clearly, in the middle of class on a hot Arizona day, when she kissed my hand.

She gently took my hand in hers and placed a gentle kiss on it. She grinned up at my bewildered face, giving a small chuckle. I asked, "Why did you do that?"

"I'm just practicing. One day, I'll kiss you on the lips"

I blushed, she laughed, it was a sweet moment. After that, at the same time, in the same class, each and every day, she would take my hand and kiss it.

I don't know when I started to fall for her, but it was sometime after that.

We grew, from year 9 to 10 and all the way to 11, and those kisses became a sort of ritual. People would ask if we were dating, and she would always reply the same.

"I wish"

Little did she know I secretly did too, but I would never admit it.

At least not in her lifetime.

I remember one day she took my hand in hers, but just stared at my lips, as if she was longing for them. She never kissed them, though, she just smiled and kissed me with those soft, gentle lips on my hand.

Then, one day, she didn't come to school. I thought nothing of it, but I found myself wanting her lips on my hand as usual, maybe even more, daydreaming through classes.

The next day rolled around.

Then the next.

She still hadn't shown up, and it was starting to worry me. I tried calling her, but she didn't pick up. So I decided the next best option was to go to her house.

I knocked on the cherry red door, nervously swallowing. I had a bad feeling about this but for no particular reason. Maybe it's a feeling lovers have for each other, to know when their other half is in trouble, but I guess I'll never know.

The door clicked open, and a tall, lean woman with messy brown hair stood on the other side. She had black circles under her eyes, most likely from not sleeping enough. 

"Hello, do you need something?" She asked, her voice slightly scraggly.

"I was just wondering about your daughter, Sofia, is she here? She hasn't been at school the past few days and I'm worried..."

The woman gave me a sad look, making me even more confused.

"Oh, dear, why don't you come inside..."

I went inside the house, it had brown walls and simple furniture. She led me to the living room, sitting down on a couch, and patting the seat beside her, so I sat there. She gently took my hand in hers, and I couldn't help remembering how her daughter would do the same. 

Then, she spoke. 

I remember the words very clearly, it's about the only thing I remember from that day that isn't filled with tears. The word shattered my soul, clenched my heart, drowned me in an ocean of sorrow.

"She's dead"

I didn't ask anything at first, just stared at her blankly as tears started to come to my eyes. Her mother's piercing brown eyes stared into mine, which only made it worse. Her mom was like the spitting image of her, their eyes softened around the edges, their long lashes. Though her daughter was much more beautiful than she. 

It was as though I had known she was dead, like I had known right after she hadn't shown up at school, or answered my calls. The worst thing was, a part of me had already accepted it.  

After that, I had so many questions I wanted to ask, so many things I wanted to say, but I couldn't get any of them out. It was like a part of me already knew she was dead.

"But she hasn't kissed me yet..."

Was one of the many thoughts that sped through my mind, though it was the one that kept repeating. My heartbeat felt loud, it pumped through my veins and in my chest, blocking out all other sounds.

Maybe if I listened close enough, I might have been able to hear the silence coming from hers.