"Never say goodbye, because saying goodbye means going away, and going away means forgetting."
~Peter Pan
I had no response for the scruffy man standing hunched inside the box in front of me.
How was it even possible that Stephanie had known him? Had he worked at the hospital at some point?
"She's dead, right?" Ty croaked, his raspy voice almost lost in the wind that had started to pick up around us.
"Yeah." I finally managed to bring myself to say, my eyes following him as he moved out of the box in one swift move, his eyes never leaving me.
"Why are you here then? How the hell did you know-"
"How did you know my sister? You're a twenty something year old man, and you were talking to my twelve year old sister?" He stood up, earning a quiet squeak out of me when I realized how much taller and more intimating he looked now that he was standing.
He had to be a good foot taller then me, his eyes had darkened with the sky, his lips twisted in a grimace. My eyes fell from his face and on to the dirty and torn blue shirt he was wearing, the jeans that looked seconds from tearing at the seams.
"My daughter was sick for her first couple years of life. She met Steph at the hospital." I could feel sympathy starting to creep its way into my chest upon hearing his words.
"Why are you here? Did they just send you here to tell me she's dead? I'm not really all the fucking surprised. This world takes all the beauty and generosity and washes it down with its shitty government and rich snobs that couldn't care less about all of us out here." He made a gesture toward the people that were lined up and down both sides of the street, some of them watching the scene we were making.
"Look, Ty. I don't know who you are exactly, and I'm sorry about your daughter. But I'm here because of Stephanie. She. . . she gave me this list and. . ."
"And what does some stupid list have to do with someone like you being down here right now?" I could feel my hands clenching into fists at my sides.
"Would you all stop saying that! What the hell do you mean by someone like me? I'm just like you-"
"Just like me?" He laughed sarcastically, "I don't see you sleeping inside a box in the middle of the winter with absolutely no idea if you'll ever be able to see your four year old daughter again. I don't see you sitting here and crying yourself to sleep while people out there with money go and eat at fancy fucking restaurants when we're lucky if we can get a piece of moldy bread. So tell me, sweetheart, how are you anything like us?" He was pointing at me as he spoke, as if he were lecturing a small child. I could feel everything inside me want to walk away and forget I ever came here, but I couldn't leave. This wasn't for me, this wasn't for Alyssa The Useless. This was for Steph and I wasn't going to let her down.
"You're rich. You wear your clothes once and toss them aside, knowing that you can just go and buy another pair of jeans if you get tired of the ones you have." He went on when I didn't say a word, his blue eyes so dark I could barely see the blue in them anymore.
"I'm sorry." I said, preparing myself to stalk away, "But you aren't the one that just lost her baby sister, all right?" He only stared at me, not saying anything until I started to back away.
"Of course that's all you think about, Rich Girl. Your sister was an amazing person, I doubt I could say the same about you." I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from lashing out on him, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides.
YOU ARE READING
The Wish List
Teen Fiction"Her dying wish was for me to complete her list, and I wasn't going to stop until it was completed." When Alyssa Morrison loses her little sister to cancer, the last think she wants to think about is completing the ridiculous list she left beh...
