Shattered

As I walk up the grassy hill to her spot, the cool autumn breeze passes over my face. I kneel down in front of her on this special day, a single red rose in hand. I look into her bright blue eyes, enhanced by her long brown hair, and think back to the days of how we first met.

Freshman year of high school is always rough, especially when you've just moved to the area. Thankfully, I was not the only one; when I first saw her, I didn't think much about it: her hair was shorter back then, and she was pretty cute, at least in my 14-year old head she was. I only saw her in second period but at lunch, she found me again.

"Hey," She said

"Hey," I replied

"Mind if I join you?"

"Go right ahead."

Surprisingly, we talked more than we ate. As it turned out, she and I had a lot in common; we were both pretty nerdy and had a love for video games and animals. We laughed at each other's jokes and had as much fun as two ninth-graders could have in one lunch period. Soon, the bell rang for fifth period and we went our separate ways. Even after lunch, we found each other again as we walked home together. I don't know how I didn't notice it before, but not only did we live in the same neighborhood; we lived right next door to each other! We said goodbye for today but made plans for me to come over to her house tomorrow.

The next day after school I met her parents, really nice people who were very welcoming. They made me feel right at home even though my home was right next-door. Whenever I was over, we'd play games or bounce around on their trampoline. She'd come visit me at my house too, and we'd goof around all day together. My older brother would always joke about how we looked cute together whenever he was back from college for a few days. We kept doing this throughout ninth and tenth grade when we weren't swamped with homework, but that made all of the time we spent not working even better. Even as juniors we still hung out on weekends, since we both had gotten part-time jobs, and I began to realize something: the more that I learned about her, the more that I genuinely cared about her; I almost want to say that I loved her, but the thought that she didn't feel the same way scared me out of that though. Unfortunately, time soon gave our perfect world a violent shaking.

That summer, her grandfather passed away. I knew him since he was living with their family, and I knew how much he meant to her. One day after work, she called me and asked if I could come to the memorial service. She told me that the loss was really getting to her and she could really use a good friend. I told her yes and she gave me the time and place. I made sure to show up early and was led through to the room for their family. Her father was at the door; he shook my hand and led me into the room. I noticed that she was at the front of the room, paying her respects. Her father noticed too and introduced me to some of her uncles and cousins. They all shared stories about her grandfather and his military exploits. The man was a true hero. Soon, the service began and everyone took their seats. She still hadn't noticed me so I sat down next to her.

"Hey," I said

She didn't say anything back; she just started crying into my shoulder, so I put my arm around her and we stayed like that for the whole service. After the service, she and I went outside for some fresh air, and we talked a little bit.

"Can I ask you something?" She said

"Sure," I replied

"The doctors told us a few months ago that my grandfather was going to pass soon, and I was okay with this; I knew that life has to take its course," As she said this tears started to pool in her eyes, "so why do I still feel so sad?"

"Is this the first time someone close to you has died?" I asked her

"Yeah, why?" she answered

"That's why you feel so sad. See, I like to think of everyone having a shell around them, and this shell kind of represents our perfect world. When someone close to you dies, that shell starts to crack, letting cold reality seep in; and the first crack is always the toughest to deal with. Am I making sense?"