I Rather Be Under The Cherry Blossom Tree

Part 3: Dead Friend's Love Letter

Tate's POV

Lately I've tried to act like the daughter that my father would've wanted if he had the choice. Now that I think about it, ever since then I've always judged girls. None that I have met had good personalities. They have either had too serious air around them or just too many friends. Not to mention they were always so childish. Everything about them was so fake. They tried too hard to get the attention they didn't deserve.

They try to pass for gentle girls who are indulged in sensual pleasures and they just made me want to puke. They would almost ALWAYS want to tug me around, or come up to me just for my looks. Such fools.

I always had to force myself to laugh in the same manner as everyone else. Everything was so forced and complicated. How long did I have to keep up with that facade?

However, that all changed when I met Yasmin. What a refreshing cool breeze she was. It was as if I had taken a cool dip in a nice spring during a hot summer day. She was different. She had this aura around her that just emanates beauty and was such a true down to earth person. I think she was the reason why I had gotten into photography. Well, that was a lie. She was the only thing I wanted to take photos of, To preserve her memory. To have at least some form of her. She was always that one girl i could not have, i could not touch.

When I got home from school, My mom was drunk off her Butt. Ever since my dad left my mom because I wasn't a girl. Instead my mom had me, a boy. Ever since then she has always blamed me.

"It's your fault!" She screams as I walked into the house after school. She stumbles over, pushes me and the soup on the stove spills to the ground. I stepped into the soup, trying to stop my mom from falling all over it. She pushes me off of her, falls to the ground onto the soup and sobs. Did I help her?

No.

I ground and rub my hands onto my face, while sliding my school bag farther up my shoulder. 'This is gunna be a hassle to clean up tomorrow.'I thought as I left my mom on the ground.

I stepped past her and walked down the hallway to my room. I close the door and tug on the ends of my black hair. It was getting long again, but I didn't have the time or energy to cut it. Throwing my bag acrossed the room i jumped onto my bed that was simply just a mattress on the floor.

'Ugh I smell of soup now'

I thought of Yasmin. I thought of coming home to her cooking soup for me, with a light pink dress that fell to her knees and an apron on. She would smile that shining, breath taking smile she always has and her brown hair flowing down to her back, falling in small curls. She would say, "Welcome home!" and greet me with a kiss on my cheek. She'll ask how work is and-

I would like that... I hug my pillow, slight tears in my eyes. I would so like that, but it's all just a dream.

I wake up late the next day, my hair disheveled but I couldn't care less. My clock blinked 7:40 and with a grown and i roll my eyes. I'm going to be late for school, but with the lack of energy I had, I didn't care. I quickly get out of bed, brush my shirt off and grab my bag that I had thrown last night. I must have fell asleep as soon as i hit the mattress. I still wore my white button up shirt. It was a bit wrinkled but did I really care? No.

I walked into school as the bell rang at 7:50. While running a hand through my black messy hair i yawned.

"Ah!" I hear someone yell, I turn around and see Yasmin coming up behind me, "Good morning Tate!" She ran to her locker, her hair flowing lightly behind her. The morning sun was combing it's warm light through her hair, showing off her natural highlights. Man, she was gorgeous.