her name was annie

not quick enough

there was a week in which annie seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth. no words left behind as to where she was headed or how she would get there. it felt like a chunk of my heart had hidden. annie never missed school, no matter how much she seemed to not care. something was wrong, and it was the monday of the following week that i decided to hike up my metaphorical skirt and find her.

i was able to pry annie's address out of the lady in the front office. after muttering some poorly executed excuse of needing to deliver missed homework and a family emergency and forgotten addresses, she forked it over. either she had been gullible or she didn't have enough motivation to care.

i ditched school that day, something i never thought myself to do. but instead of making my way to math class, i mounted my bike and petaled to annie.

she lived on the other side of town. it was almost an hour away, and all of my energy was coming from a fiber one bar i had had for breakfast, but i pushed myself to get to her. annie was missing. i needed to find annie.

she lived in a run down tenement building stationed right near a florist. third floor. apartment number 36. i remember knocking on the door like my life depended on it. in a way, it kind of did. her father opened the door.

it was straight out of a movie. stained undershirt, overflowing gut, balding head of grey hair, and the horrifyingly strong scent of beer as a cherry on top. he spoke solely in grunts.

"the hell'r you?"

"sir, is annie here?"

"annie?" he crumpled a beer can. "you mean annabelle? that dumb bitch left two days ago."

left. the word had bounced around in my skull. "left? did she say where?"

he rubbed his face. "damn, kid, you ask a lot of questions."

"please, sir, i need to know." i don't remember when i began clenching my fists. "where did she go?"

he laughed out loud. it was a hoarse, dry, painful sounding laugh. i cringed. "where did she go?" another laugh. "hell, kid. i'll get down to my knees and pray that her bloody soul went straight down to live with the devil."

my throat had went dry. "hell?"

"damn, you really are dumb." he leaned over a table and grabbed another can of beer, yanking the tab. "like she'd tell her pitiful old man where the hell she went.

that was the moment my world stood still and crumpled around my all at the same time. gone? my annie. my annie just... just gone.

i stumbled backwards. "no, no, no, no."

"she left a letter, though. said give it to some kid named duncan or sum'm." he leaned against the door as the thought clicked. "you duncan, kid?"

"daniel, sir, it's daniel."

the man gave a humorless laugh. "you're lucky, you know? she talked about you. said you loved her. you loved her?"

"i-i do, sir."

"you're a lucky bastard. not everybody can love. but annabelle, annabelle told me she might love you too." he leaned back over the table and handed me an envelope. "here, kid. now leave me alone."

in the blur of the moment, i remember snatching the envelope and dashing out of the building. i collapsed in the spot i parked my bike, my back slamming against the brick wall. i held the envelope in my hands. sprawled on the back was daniel in her swirly letters. my heart lurched forward. my shaky fingers made it's way to the flap of the envelope. thankfully, she didn't seal it. i didn't want to risk destroying it. i slid the crisp paper from it's hiding place within the envelope. lined paper. annie couldn't fathom writing on plain white paper. the paper had smelt like her curls. the pen she used bled through the paper. i unfolded it with magnificent caution.

daniel you-don't-have-a middle-name lawson,

i'm sorry, okay? i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry. for everything i've done from the moment i first spoke to you.

if you're reading this, you probably know by now that i left this piece-of-shit town.

i'm a piece of shit.

danny, this town was no good for me. scratch that-- i'm no good for this town. i walked with a cloud of sadness hovering around me that i couldn't bear to spread to anybody else. i shouldn't have let you in.

i broke your heart. i'm sorry. i hate you for ever asking what was on my stupid shirt. i hate you for having that dumb floppy hair that always fell into your dumb eyes. you asshole.

by the time i finished reading the letter, my eyes were clouded with tears and my head was throbbing. my chest heaved and ached but i wouldn't let the tears spill. don't you cry over me, daniel.

i had forced myself to stand up. and i walked right over to the florist and bought the biggest bundle of flowers there was. for annie i had wrote. in that moment, no matter how much she begged me to, i swore i would never let the memories of the girl with red lipstick fade from my mind.