Denial

OneShot

Every human had a dream. Sometimes it was a wish you couldn't grant, sometimes you didn't ask for much and were able to reach your goal easily. Nevertheless, everybody dreamed of something. As for myself, I wanted to make the people I loved happy.

As I looked to the girl sitting next to me on a bench, I pondered what her dream might be. She was always smiling her goofy happy-go-lucky smile, you could rarely see her without it. Even I, as her best friend, couldn't tell what she was thinking while smiling like that. She was hardly predictable. We knew each other for almost fourteen years, but I still wasn't able to read her. Jane, on the other hand, seemed to be able to read me like a book. Sometimes, this ability was kinda creepy, but that was just her being the genius she was. Truth to be told, I admired her. Not in a romantic way, we were best friends. Nothing more, just best friends. I wished I could be as smart and skilled as she was.

"Snap out of it, Dave," waving her hand in front of my face, Jane interrupted my thoughts. Making sure my attention was on her, she lowered her arm and grinned at me teasingly, "In your own little world again? You're lucky it was just me you were staring at, any other girl would be creeped out by now."

"Look who's talking, psychic girl," I replied, also grinning. Knowing I didn't mean it, she laughed and boxed my arm without using much strength. We spent the next few hours fooling around and talking about anything and everything. Today was just like any other day, yet I cherished every memory with my best friend.

After a while, I looked at my watch. It was around six o' clock, we had still time left until we had to split up and go seperate ways home. Speaking of home, I just realized that I wasn't at Jane's for a long time. We always met outside. Thinking it might be a nice idea to pay her house a visit again, I shared my idea with her, "Hey, Jane. How about going to your place?"

I didn't exactly know what it was, but there was something flickering in Jane's eyes after I mentioned her home. It made her smile falter for a split second, her eyes not shining as bright as usually. I blinked, wondering if I might have upset her, but when I looked at her again, she was beaming. There was no trace of what I had just seen left, so I might as well have imagined it.

"Maybe some other time, right now it's a little bit messy there," she replied. I accepted that she turned down my suggestion. We decided to walk around the city, not really having a place we wanted to head to. Some people looked at us strangely, apparently not liking that we talked so loudly. We ignored the looks they were darting at us and enjoyed our time together.

It was a habit of mine that I always took photos when I was having a great time. Because of that, Jane didn't seem taken by surprise when I fished my instant camera out of my bag and started to take pictures of her. It didn't bother her, she was already used to it and posed for the pictures I took of her. On every photo, she was smiling. Seeing this, I immediately felt happy, too.

"Mommy, why is that boy taking pictures?" I heard faintly behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw a little kid, holding the hand of her mother and looking up at her with a questioning gaze. I was standing in front of Jane, so the kid couldn't see her. Shrugging, I focused my attention on the model for my photos again and continued.

After an hour or so, I walked Jane home. In front of her house stood a van, many boxes were scattered around it. Looking at the scenery in front of me, I said the first thing that came into my mind, "New neighbors?"

"I guess," Jane answered, shrugging it off. After a small hug, she waved me goodbye and walked the remaining fifty meters alone. Shooting a last glance at the van, I turned around and headed home.

In a small house, a woman was waiting for her son to come home. Finally, she could hear the front door opening and closing again. She stood up from her seat and confronted him, blocking the way to his room so he had to speak with her.
"Where have you been?" the woman asked. Not understanding why she asked, the boy looked at his mother and replied, "I met with Jane, why are you asking?"

It seemed like this wasn't the answer the woman wanted to hear. Instead, she seemed hurt. Fearing that she might raise a touchy subject, she spoke in a soft voice, "Dave, Jane is dead. She committed suicide three weeks ago. She wasn't content to live her life, I've never seen a smile on her face..."

For a short moment, silence fell over the hallway the two of them were standing in. Then, Dave smiled, "I don't know what you are talking about."

After that, the teenager walked around his mother and entered his room. His mother, meanwhile, hanged her head. She looked at the photographs her son had taken and placed on the small dresser standing in the hallway.

The photos were blank.