The Ashley Harms Collection: Circa 2016-2018

They're Still Looking for You.

Prompt: Write a story with a given sentence to begin with and a given sentence to end with. Beginning sentence: "It's funny what you hold onto, the things you remember, when everything ends." Ending sentence: "They're still looking for you, but I see you".

TW: stalking

...

It's funny what you hold onto, the things you remember, when everything ends. I remember your lips and the smile you used to send me whenever we passed in the halls. I remember your eyebrows and how they would furrow when you were concentrating really hard on something. I remember everything about you, even now.

I first saw your gorgeous face on the seventh of September back in ninth grade. You were a transfer student from California, and you had a sunkissed glow one can only accomplish from being in the sun all their lives. You were instantly popular; a priceless artifact to our eyes.

Living in Washington, we never got much of anything besides rain and clouds. Seeing you was like viewing the sun for the first time after a long winter. Your smile entranced us all, compelling and addicting. Maybe I'm crazy, but you were the answer to all of my problems.

I watched you grow and develop as you surround yourself around the most popular kids. You excelled in everything: academics, sports, fine arts. None of it was too challenging for you, which in return only drew me closer to you. At night, I dreamt about our own perfect life and what our children look like. Would Matthew, our first son, have your perfect nose? Would Grace, our daughter, have your eyes or mine? It was all a mystery to me, but I knew they would be perfect.

Each time you passed me in the hall, my heart leaped out of my chest. A sigh would escape my lips when our eyes locked during this time. We shared every class together, I made sure of that. I could see whenever you were having difficulty with a specific assignment. You'd rub your face in frustration and furrow those perfectly shaped eyebrows. I always imagined myself caressing your face, my hand being tickled by the little bit of stubble from not shaving that day.

I used to open my mouth to say something to you when we sat near each other in sophomore English class. I wanted to know how you felt about what book you were currently reading. One particular title stayed with me, even after all these years. You were reading To Kill A Mockingbird. I never knew you enjoyed classic novels, like me. I felt a constant urge to ask for your thoughts on the trial of Tom Robinson. Did you believe Atticus did everything in his power to prove him innocent? What was your opinion about the racism in this book?

I imagined us working together after school on our recent Algebra homework. We would compare answers, and as I was leaning over to see your work, you would lightly grab my chin and connect my mouth with yours. We'd pull apart and stare deeply into each other's eyes until you cough to break the silence. We'd quickly finish up our homework before you'd ask me to get some ice cream. Later that night you would tell me how long you've waited for that moment, and then you'd do it again, only this time I was prepared to kiss back.

Too bad that would never happen, for I was stuck watching you in the shadows. I watched as your letter jacket got more crowded, each pin glimmering in the light. I remember the grief that filled my heart when I saw you lean down to whisper into her ear, a chuckle escaping your lips as her face turned a bright red.

It was as if the world had all of a sudden started crashing down. My vision was blurred with tears, drowning me. That moment repeated itself in my mind again and again. The way the two of you looked into each other's eyes. It was heartbreaking. I couldn't seem to shake that situation, so I was left standing there, all by myself. Alone. I remember feeling as if the school walls were closing in, suffocating. It was as if someone had paused the television, and when they pressed play, things continued as if nothing had happened. But I still knew what happened in those moments. I knew.

I was dying inside, but nobody asked if I was okay. They saw only what I intended for them to see, forcing a smile upon my face until I could get home. I had to see the two of you in every one of our classes, sending winks and giggles across the room. It wasn't until I was in the luxury of my bed did I finally collapse. I was tired; not physically but mentally. Tears ran down my cheek like a flowing river, and I was surprised to not see a lake around me.

That's when I realized that crying was pointless. Crying wasn't going to break the two of you up. Crying isn't going to do nothing but send me into a comma of sorrow and grief, and time was too precious and short to waste on something so uneventful. You were never going to love me, were you? It was if I was nothing in this town, a piece of trash thrown out on the side of the road. To be honest, it kind of made me, well, mad.

I wasn't mad in the sense of 'Oh, I just failed my Chemistry test'. I was downright pissed. Who did you think you were? Look at me. I practically professed my love for you, and you just continued to toss me aside. No one was ever going to love you like I did. Nobody. As a matter of fact, I made cer-

"Ava, it's time for your medicine." The nurse cuts off my writing, and I take a deep breath. My hand aches, the tendons and veins slowly become fainter to see. I can feel my pulse start to slow down, and I look up to the nurse. She has a smile on her face, but I can see the fear in her eyes. She doesn't want to be in here, none of the nurses do.

They're terrified of me, and that's the way I like it. Too bad they don't know the worst of the things I've done..Things that would put me in prison for life, rather than this ward. The padded white walls, many times stained with red from the voices. The voices drive me crazy. The medicine helps greatly, but the voices still appear in my most vulnerable moments.

The nurse scurries away after setting my pills down, and I look back to my diary. I've written every day for two years, ever since they put me in here. I write to remember, to force myself to feel the grief of my past. My mistakes. Picking up the pencil, I start to write again...

-tain nobody would ever love you. You were mine, but you couldn't see that. I had to teach you a lesson; it was the only way. I followed you into the woods one day, while you were running. You looked so perfect, sweat beading down your skin. You had headphones in, so you never noticed me behind you. It was quick, I promise. I doubt you even felt anything...

My perfect love. I miss you so much. Your beautiful eyes, how they glistened in the sun. That all-knowing smile, it still melts my heart. This...this is how I remember you. Smiling, laughing, and perfect. They're still looking for you, but I see you.