*A/N Not quite sure if I enjoy this or not, but it is a short story and I felt like writing so here. Think of it what you will. x*
"She was always the one, the only one I could trust, share everything with and still be able to look in her eyes with complete adoration. She was my rock, she was my life. She was everything I ever wanted, she was all that I needed. She was so much more than just a friend.." I trailed off. Leaving them all wide mouthed, every eye in the audience glued to me. She would've been the only one smiling because thats what she did. She smiled. Under any circumstance she was the one to smile at me. Even if she wasn't there I could always feel her, her arm around my waist, her small hands fumbling with a loose thread on the side of my jacket. When I was with her I felt at home, even if we were ten thousand miles away.
I regained composure, sniffled a bit to distract myself from the tears that would surely come later. I threw the sweaty, crumpled paper to the floor and decided to wing it.
"The first time she kissed me was in the back seat of Gemma's silver toyota" I paused laughing to myself. "She told me..she told me that every living creature on earth dies alone, I don't know why..but she thought it'd be appropriate." I took a short breath, she was right even if she was quoting Donnie Darko. "The smallest details fascinated her, I remember one time she was opening a packet of rice crackers on our trip to San Diego. There was a tiny bird on the wrapper and she saved that piece of plastic claiming it was the most beautiful bird she ever saw. We were going to the San Diego zoo, where you could see real birds and she was so damn fascinated with the tiny piece of plastic" I laughed and laughed, by the end I had to be taken out by my mother and Cory. I was a mix of tears and giggles.
Thinking about it now I do believe grief had the best of me. I didn't know what to feel, so I felt it all. It's fantastic really, how well the human body does not deal with emotions. How we can sit, motionless and concrete for days on end after someone leaves us permanently. How the pit in your stomach will never be filled because the shock of them being gone will never fade. You'll always get the sense of regret and fear when hearing their name because you promised yourself you'd never forget, but you'd try to push their memory away because it was agonizing to live with, the pain of remembering them every second of your day.
The day after the funeral was no better, I called Nath over because he was the only person who reminded me vividly of her. He had the same chestnut brown hair she had, his cut short where as hers had hung down to her waist. His eyes were the same shade of green, very bright and full of life, never dull. The similarities were not coincidental as Nath and Alice were twins. Nathan had told me I needed to try and move on, he called it "young love" and told me she'd want me to be happy. To live on for her, to be happy because she always was. Logical, I guess. I'd assumed at the time he really only wanted me to move on so he'd have his "wing man" back.
Nath had helped me a great deal, he put up with my fits of crying although I didn't understand how he wasn't in the same state as I was. He lost his twin sister after all. He helped me when the gun was to my head, he calmed me as he uncurled my fingers from the knife handle. He poured the alcohol down the drain when I was too drunk to remember what I had drank in the first place.
Being as young as we were and so intimate in our relationship I do believe now there could have been greater ways to have gone about it. Sneaking out to bon fires night after night, not returning until the early hours of the morning only to pretend to sleep because of the rush. The biggest factor really was our parents, hers being catholic, mine just being assholes. They never thought us together, only great friends. Forbidden love? No, I wouldn't classify it as that considering few people knew about our relationship. Nath, Gemma, Zara and the few people we interacted with at parties.
For months after the funeral I had clear images of her dead body swarming my head. Delicately placed in the casket, dressed up in something she would've never approved of. Her face pale, like always but now faded as she was deceased. Her cheeks a fake shade of cheap red, her eyes a darker purple. She looked nice, if she was somebody else. This wasn't Alice, it never could've been. I tried to make myself believe it wasn't her but my mind decided against me.
Nath had told me she kept albums filled with pictures of us, I knew she always carried that camera for a reason. I never did see the photos when she would've been alive and beside me reminding me why we did the things we had done at the time. Nath brought them over, they slowly piled up. One by one, a layer of albums layed on the floor of my room. I don't remember if I was scared to open them, but I never ended up doing so. I convinced myself the memories would flood my entire being until I eventually drowned in a sea of sorrow and grief. Although I did open to the last page of the first album, slowly lifted the photo from under the plastic coating and slipped it under my bed. I never looked, and to this day I have no idea what that photograph is of.
The last time I saw her was brilliant to be honest, if I hadn't known she died that night I'd name it the greatest night of my life. We were sat in Gemma's basement, listening to whatever music the radio DJ decided to play. Alice drapped over me, beer in hand. Those moment never got old, being able to feel her soft hands intertwined with mine. The time passed slowly that night and being saturday, we had no set curfew. These were the nights I enjoyed the most, not having to worry about anything besides for how I was getting home.
At four am she declared she was tired and wanted me to take her home. I asked how and she slowly grabbed the key to her fathers car out of her back pocket. She insisted I drove, so I did. She told me she didn't want to go home so we ended up parked just off the corner of Cherry street. We talked of wild things and imagined our lives as soon as we graduated, she was off to art school and I was to follow her wherever she ended up. Being seventeen we didn't have a plan really, we only knew we were going to spend our lives together. It felt like we had talked for hours, looking back I realized the conversation must've been easily only forty five minutes. She had slowly grabbed my wrist and traced my veins with her delicate finger tips, she had intertwined her hands in mine and slowly hovered her lips just above my own. She gently pressed a kiss to my cheek, slowly moving to bite my bottom lip. It was perfect, bright lights suddenly everywhere as she kept her lips slightly on mine. She was bathed in bright white lights, she looked like an angel.
When I woke up alone the next morning the room was bright and unfamiliar. The annoying beeping of the machines attached to me gave off all the confirmation I needed and I slowly put the pieces together. I was in the hospital, the lights the night before had been headlights. Alice was dead, from the moment I awoke I knew she was gone. I knew the empty feeling, she was gone and now I was too. Not physically, but mentally, I was dead. The doctor came in and checked on me, my parents were let in and my mother was frantic. I already knew what she was afraid to tell me, I let her tell me anyways.
So now I am standing at her grave, like I do every saturday morning, like I have for the past 7 months since the funeral. This time was different though, this was the final goodbye. I was off to New York to promote my band. She would understand wouldn't she, this is what made me happy, what made me forget her. I decided since it was the final goodbye for a while, I'd bring the picture I slipped under my bed. I would tear it to pieces and bury it above her. To let her know that I am broken, and I will be for a while. But eventually that'll disintegrate and I'll try to be a new, better person. I fumbled the picture in my pocket, I decided it was time to pull it out, so I did. It was a picture taken by Zara on the first day of high school. Alice had her arm around my waist, the only place I felt at home. I tore it into 9 pieces, her favorite number. Dug a tiny hole and placed the pieces nicely, I dragged the dirt back across the pieces until they were fully covered. I wiped my eyes, got off the ground and looked down, she would always be here.
"Harry? Harry, we have to go...the plane leaves in 2 hours!" Dan half shouted, I smiled and turned on my heel.
"There you are Harry, ready to go?" he asked as I made my way closer.
"Yeah, let's do this." I said happily. For the first time in a long time I felt genuinely happy.
I walked out of the grave yard that day with my head held high and a smile on my face. Never looking back.
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I am genuinely confused and frustrated about this ending, I don't know if I like the way it ended up. Anyways, may or may not change it.
