Losing her

A Girl I Knew

      I'm about to tell you a story. A true story. This is a story of a girl I once knew. You wouldn't know her, not now anyways. Why? You'll see I guess. This girl I knew, she was so cool. She was my best friend. Well, I thought we were best friends. She kept to herself for the most part, let me complain about my life. I didn't realize my life wasn't as bad as I thought it out to be. I didn't realize that my little problems, they were nothing compared to hers. 

    Her name? Lucy Johnson. Cute girl. Long brown hair with blond highlights, her hair curled near the end to where it laid perfectly on her chest, and caressed her hips smoothly.  She kept the front short and the back long for when she put it up, that way she didn't have to show her face completely. She should have though. Her skin was flawless, and soft to the point were you could feel a baby's skin and hers and not tell the difference. 

     She always wore make up, just on her eyes of course. Some eyeliner, mascara, and eye shadow. Any time I tried to copy her look I ended up getting asked if I got punched in both of my eyes.  Her laugh was smooth like honey but could make even a baby giggle. She always said things so smoothly that she could probably convince the cashier into giving her money without even mentioning anything about it. 

    Her body seemed perfect. Her legs weren't too thick or muscular, they were just right. It'd hard to explain her to be perfectly honest. The only word that comes to mind, happens to be perfect. She was 5'6 which was perfect next to her 6 foot boyfriend. They suited each other. She wore the stereotypical nerd glasses but they suited her face nicely. She didn't particularly care for sports but still went to her boyfriend's basketball games to support him. She preferred to stay in the library and study her fantasy books. She lived for fantasy but excelled in history, in fact she wanted to become a history teacher. 

    Her style was cute too. She didn't care about showing her body for anyone but her boyfriend. She kept a big sweater on that had some cute design about cats almost every day, occasionally there would be dogs instead. With the sweaters she wore leggings with short shorts that didn't even show. She didn't always do something with her hair but when she did she used the hair things I get her. I loved buying her things, but she wouldn't allow me to buy expensive things, so I got her slightly less expensive hair accessories. 

     Her boyfriend didn't have the dream to go professional in sports like most of the boys in our grade. He actually wanted to become a vet and take care of animals. He didn't quite take the personality of an animal lover during school, but when we all hung out he always went to the animals before me or Lucy. We understood his love for animals above humans and teased him for it, just because we could. Lance is the name and animals are his game. 

     Me and Lucy had almost all the same classes but we never really shared our grades with each other, because I just assumed that we had the same grade since we did all of our work together. Art class was my favorite. Lucy had such a talent for painting that every time she finished a piece, had it graded, and given back she'd not only get extra points but they wanted to show her paintings to museums. She never really cared what they did with it. When the teacher didn't keep the paintings they went to me. My room is covered in fantastic canvases. 

   My talents lie elsewhere. I like pottery, and I planned on becoming a photographer. I used Lucy as my model, and sometimes Lance. The thing I liked most was adding the magic. Adding lighting that wasn't there, bring some colors out more than others or fading somethings into nothing. I could bend the image to my liking. I never did anything to Lucy but bring the color in her dress, and dimming the colors in the background. 

     She told the funniest jokes, when she was mad she always fixed the problem, her smile was brighter than the sun, but I never saw her sad. She worked two jobs to help her mom with the bills, and still be able to afford some records for this cute record players he bought off of amazon. Her music taste was strange but it wasn't a bad strange. It was music that I also liked, it was strange for her because it didn't look like punk would suit her, but we sang our hearts out to some of our favorite songs any chance we got. 

I know you're confused. Why use past tense? How she was? Did she change?

She changed a lot, but she can't change anymore. Why? Because just a few minutes ago I gotta call. The call to tell me that my best friend died. This is a story of a girl. A girl that I once knew. No. This is a story about what she left behind.