I was sitting by the bench, waiting for something to happen to me; something to snap some sense back into me, something to shock a beat back into my heart because I just can’t feel it anymore.
Why don’t those other kids just do me a favor and murder me? Just beat me with a baseball bat, hit me with a car, push me off the stairs, run a fucking knife through my chest, just to see if there’s anything there. Because when I think of Hope, I can hear something breaking inside my chest, but I can’t feel anything.
The sun was just about to set when I heard that all too familiar voice that sent frissons up and down my spine.
“Catchy, please talk to me? I miss you.”
“…When do you leave?”
“Tomorrow.”
Great, just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse. She sat down beside me and nudged me with her head.
“Talk to me.”
“About what?
“About the things you aren’t telling me.”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t make any difference.”
There was a silence that followed those words. A silence that we both knew shouldn’t be there, but it lingered in the spaces between us. I opened my mouth, in hopes that I would be able to say something to dispel the silence.
“I’ll miss you, you know. It’ll feel like a part of me is dying every single day that you’re gone.”
“I’m sorry Catchy, but I have to, and—“
“I know. I get that. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
“Tell me. Do you feel anything for me? Because if you do, then I’ll stay with you.”
This was my chance. Whatever I say right now would decide everything. I could turn this entire thing around just by telling her three simple words. Just by kissing her mid-sentence, and undoing the not doing, with one small gesture.
“No. You’re my best friend, and I just don’t want to lose you. That’s all.”
She giggled and moved in closer.
“You’re adorable, Catchy. But you don’t know how to look inside. You can’t see your heart.”
“Oh, and you can see yours?”
“Of course, I’m awesome that way!”
“Well what do you see then?”
She leaned on my shoulders and held my hand. The world was silent for a minute. Nothing else mattered except for her. Hope and I sat there, in complete silence for a couple of minutes, and then she spoke.
“My heart is happy.”
We watched the sun sink into the distance. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat. With her hand in mine and her head against mine, my heart was sinking as well.
YOU ARE READING
Hope
Short Story'Strange; that was always the word used to describe me. My teachers knew me as the strangely quiet kid in the back. The other children knew me as the strange kid who was always reading. Their parents knew me as the strange child who was always alone...
