Hey! So this is a short story that I had to make for school and idk, my friends wanted me to post it on Wattpad so, here it is! Hope you guys enjoy and I'd totally appreciate it if you vote and comment if you do :)
I remember almost every moment in my life when Mark blew a raspberry at me. Blowing raspberries was like our thing – mostly his thing actually – because it was how we first met. I know it sounds weird but I remember these moments like they were just yesterday.
“I want cookies, mommy!” little me begged, reaching out to the box of cookies on the other side of the aisle as I sat in the seat of the shopping cart.
“Sam, no, we have cookies at home.”
Little me pouted, giving my mom a doe-eyed look with my chocolate brown eyes; a look my mom was already all too familiar with. As my mom ignored me, a little boy with dirty blonde hair passed by and asked his mom if he could have the box of cookies. To my surprise, the little boy’s mom grabbed a box of Chip’s Ahoy! and handed it over to her son. Little me stared at the box of cookies in his arms with my mouth forming the shape of an ‘o’ as he suddenly turned towards me, placed his tongue between his lips, and blew; drops of his saliva fell onto the floor as he blew a raspberry at me. I was too grossed out by the few drops of saliva that landed on my face to notice that my mom and his mom had started talking.
I practically hated him after that, but since our moms wanted us to become friends, we eventually did. Three years later, Mark and I were at his house celebrating his eighth birthday. Since my birthday was almost exactly a month after his, I was still seven. And just like the first time we met, he blew a raspberry in my face, bragging about how he was older than me while I looked into his ocean blue eyes and replied by saying, “Only by a month!” We continued with that argument for probably five minutes until our moms stopped us.
Four years after that, things changed. We weren’t as close as we used to be when we were smaller. Well, what do you expect? When the kids at school start making fun of you because you’re hanging out too much with someone of the opposite sex, the two of you are bound to stop hanging out. We were twelve-year-olds influenced by our friends; but as we got into high school, blowing raspberries continued to be our thing and we started to hang out again. It was hard not to when your mom likes to go to the other’s house a lot to talk to their mom and likes to drag you along with her because she thinks that you and her friend’s son are still “inseparable.” Well, I guess my mom was right because right now, without him, I feel so alone.
When the accident happened, it was hard not to visit his room all the time. It was hard not to constantly feel as if it was your fault; as if, if you hadn’t done what you did, this wouldn’t have happened. If I hadn’t asked him to buy me ice cream, he wouldn’t have gotten into a car accident that would take him away from me and everyone that cared about him. It’s still hard not to visit his room, and right now, lying in his navy blue bed on the day of what would be his 19th birthday, I miss him more than ever. I miss the way he smelled, the way he cheered me up whenever I was sad, the way he would sometimes place the small strands of my black hair behind my ear, the way this room of his seemed so much brighter with him in it even if it was gloomy outside. Most of all, I miss those little raspberry moments that we always shared because him and those moments, are irreplaceable.
