The four word story

Chapter one

Nora's pov

It had been a month since Christopher jumped from the local bridge. Not only did I blame myself for it and not being able to help him, everybody has been making jokes about it.

"Hey freak, why don't you go jump off the bridge like your boyfriend." The jocks sneered.
Christopher was not and has not ever been my boyfriend. He was simply my bestfriend whom I always went to and vice versa.
For the past month I have been feeling three feelings in the same order, guilt, sadness and anger. I feel guilt cause I knew Chris liked me as more than friends but I turned him down and told him that I am not able to be in a relationship. I feel sadness because, well my friend jumped off a bridge, why wouldn't I be sad? And then I feel anger, because he left me, he left me here to fend for myself.

I was headed towards Mr. Clifford's class. He was by far my favorite teacher. I had made my way to my normal seat. Five minutes later ad the class had started.

"Okay class, this week's writing assignment is either going to be really easy or really hard." Mr. Clifford said.
The assignment was to write the saddest four word story we could. After class had ended I headed to my locker to get my things and go home.

On my walk home I started thinking of ideas for my four word story.
And then he jumped.
He left me alone.
She is dying inside.

I didn't realize I was crying until I broke down in sobs, I started to run home, I needed Oli. She always made me feel better.

When I walked in the room Oli was sitting on the couch of out small apartment watching cartoons. The second she saw my tear stained face she was up and held me in her arms.
Tears where streaming down my face ad she rubbed circles on my back and told me everything will be okay.
I told her about our four word story and how people were still making fun of me and making jokes about Christopher.

She cut her wrist.
She tied the rope.
She kicked the chair.
All of these stories running through my head buy none of them seemed good enough, just like me, never good enough.
I told Oli I needed to be alone for the rest of the night. I ended up writing at least 16 four word stories but none were good enough, nothing is ever good enough.

Oli and nora are life.
~Miranda