I ran all the way home.
Sue me, but I couldn't deal with the fact that she was being wheeled around with a white sheet covering her body. Don't they only do that when the person is dead?
She can't be dead! I know it's a possibility but she just can't be. She doesn't deserve this crap, she deserves to be happy and alive.
Leaving Gordie at the hospital to explain things to everyone by himself, I ran home with my blurred vision from the tears that decided to form on the brims of my eyes and I'm honestly surprised that I came home in one piece.
I throw the Memory Book on the bed and kick my duvet. Why did she have to leave me like this? Why was I so angry?
'She may not be dead yet, Charlie.'
As I throw a pillow acoss the room and kicked my duvet again, one sealed envelope jumps from the force of the kick, and I reach out to get it. How could I have been so stupid to realise that I missed a letter? I open in hastily, giving anything to get some sort of communication from my friend. This letter was different to the others. I think it was one of the first letters she wrote, because the format was different and its date was the earliest so far.
Charlie Adams,
What can I say about you? You remind me of Neverland. Why? Because you seem to take me away from reality. I want to escape, Charlie. Chad was the one to beat me, and I’m doing this thing that I’ll write a letter for every time he does. You’ll read these on the 24th of November, a special day.
Hell, I am scared to death. I’m scared one day he will punch me so hard I will die. And, I don’t want to. I don’t know what to do, I can’t give myself to him. That’s all he wants. He isn’t taking my first like that, no way. I’ll have to experience the pain, whether I like it or not.
You indirectly told me you loved me Charlie, and I can’t say this to your face now because we agreed to keep it on a friend basis. If I write it, I’ll get it out of my system.
Charlie Adams, I am completely and utterly in love with you.
And you’ll probably never hear me tell you that.
I need to learn to carry on, and that may be done if I'm strong enough.
Love,
Your Olivia.
I stare at the letter in complete shock. She loved me?
I did not expect that closure so quickly.
I was merely numb, no butterflies going off in my stomach, no stars spinning around my head, nothing at all. It was comforting, knowing the girl I loved, loved me back, but I never thought I’d find out this way. I expected her to tell me she loved me when we were in the pouring rain, and she was crying about something or someone and then we would kiss and she would tell me she loves me.
“Charlie?” I hear Sarah’s voice ask, and I try to wipe my eyes with my sleeve before she walks in.
I don’t even know why she was here, to be honest. Shouldn’t she be with Gordie? I think they have something which I don’t have, which is a relationship, and I know I sound selfish saying it but I despise it at the moment.
She walks in, my sleeve still situated at the corner of my eyes and she sighs, “Oh Charlie.”
“I don’t need your sympathy.” I say rudely, throwing my arm to my side. “Sorry, I-“
“You don’t have my sympathy.” She says, taking a step closer. “You have my empathy.”
“What’s the difference?”
