brads p.o.v
there the box sits haunting me in the corner.
*flashback*
"brad it's not going to work you know that" she said crying as the rain drenched her cloths.
"I don't want to fucking believe that!" I yelled slamming a fist against the hood of my car.
"two summers, two summers and I'll be back okay?" she said her voice cracking in pain.
"that's not okay maybe I can come maybe we can make it work maybe we can-" I said trying to not let go.
"brad it won't work" she cried throwing her hands in the air.
"fine! fucking leave me here Josie leave me hear! you never fucking cared you never fucking cared!" I yelled. what I don't think she realized was I was crying just as hard.
"that's not true! you know that" she said getting angry.
"I knew Josie. but the real Josie wouldn't do this and I fucking want her back" I scoffed.
"this wasn't fucking what I wanted ether" she said her sweet voice cracking.
"just leave already god dammit" I said turning around.
"brad" she said placing a hand on my drenched shoulder.
"LEAVE!" I yelled pushing her hand off me. and that was it.
*flashback ends*
it's been three summers since that day. every time I look in the corner it all floods back.
we were fourteen that summer. she was my Bestfriend yet she left me here.
the last time I saw her was the next day after the fight. there was a knock on my door when I answered I saw her getting into her dad's little black car and driving away.
she left a box at my door. a box of Polaroids. filled with a good 100 or so pictures. we looked happy. in the box were letters and notes.
letters I wrote her when she had a bad day or broke up with a boyfriend or the letters I slipped under her door when her mum passed and she didn't leave her room for a week.
note we would pass at school. are plans for the future as best friends forever were in those notes. secrets and inside jokes written in each one.
but now she's gone. she promised she would be back last summer. but now I sit here alone and she hasn't come back.
I'm starting to think she never will.
I should shove the box in the attic, I should erase her from my mind, I should delete her number, I should stop sending her voice mails, I should stop bringing her up in every other conversation with the lads, I should stop.
but I just fucking can't.
"hey brad let's- shit you still have hat box?" Tristan said coming into my room.
"do you think she will ever come back?" I asked.
"I don't know none one has talked to her in a couple months" he sighed.
"I haven't at all. I miss her" I said putting my hands in my head.
"trust me we all do"
