wb :

Something I wrote when strived to, well, see if I could make anyone cry with one of those soppy love stories you get in emails and see on blogs. Inspired by a tragic love life. I also warn you, it's two and a half pages of size 12 Times New Roman. Be prepared to read.

***

Every day of his life he could remember, Peter had known he loved her. He loved her long black hair, the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled, her elegance when she walked, the eloquence when she talked… She was perfect. He would dream of her at night, too, holding his pillow and longing for it to be her. Oh how he wished… But Peter had a problem. Sarah, the love of his life, was not his to love. Whenever he met her, she was smiled and waved. It didn’t mean anything though, for Sarah had a boyfriend, whom she loved with all her heart.

As children, the two would spend their weekends together; building sandcastles at the beach, sliding down slides and climbing trees, running around in the sun for no reason as kids do. She had saved his life once, too. She had taken swimming courses since she was five years old, and when Peter had slipped off a log he was balancing on and fell into the river, she jumped in and rescued him. Their parents had come running (or so he had heard) when she screamed to them, finding him unconscious, and he woke up in hospital a few hours later. He had become very close to her after that, but by the time he recognized what his feelings were, it was too late.

Peter would walk to school every day. He would always arrive just in time to see Sarah and her boyfriend sharing a kiss before leaving for their classes in the morning. If he was early, he would see them walking to school ahead of him, his arm around her shoulder as she leaned into him dreamily. Whenever Sarah wasn’t with her boyfriend, he was all she would talk about. She would tell Peter about what they were going to do on Saturday, and how he was going to buy her that top she had wanted for ever, or how they were going to get married in Hawaii as soon as they got enough money. It tore his heart, but Peter simply smiled at her and answered,
“I’m happy for you.”

And he was. His heart wept, knowing she could never be his, but it made him smile, despite the tears, to think she was getting all the love she deserved, and more. Love was not selfish; he knew this better than anyone.

One night, Sarah and Robert were walking home together from a fun night at the movies, and decided to take a quick detour through an alleyway. Robert smiled and grabbed her suddenly, pinning her against the wall as she gasped, but he just kissed her deeply. She grinned and closed her eyes, murmuring his name, but just as she was beginning to enjoy it, Robert suddenly pulled off her. Opening her, the first thing she saw was the barrel of a gun as someone held it to her forehead, another of them holding her beloved.
“Give me all your money, or I’ll shoot you and take it anyway,” came the icy voice.

Meanwhile, Robert bowed his head forward and snapped it back as the thug dropping him and clutching a bleeding nose. He jumped on the back of the one with the gun and tried to wrestle it off him, screaming,
“Run Sarah!”
Her legs were shaking, but somehow she stumbled away, running blindly through the darkness. There were gunshots behind her, but she just ran and ran and ran until she was at home and threw herself into her mother’s arms, sobbing heavily.

She didn’t hear from Robert until his name came up on the news. He had been murdered, with six gunshot wounds to the chest. As soon as Peter heard of this, he ran flat out to Sarah’s house and didn’t stop until he was standing outside her bedroom door, catching his breath. He opened it quietly and saw her crying in bed. Closing the door behind him, he put his arms tentatively around her as she looked up at him, her eyes red and watery. Without a word, she embraced him.

Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned to hours when she spoke next, her voice shaky and weak from the long hours of crying.
“I can’t live without him Peter.”
“Yes you can…” he whispered back. “You have to. Don’t live for him anymore…. Live for yourself… live for me. Please Sarah…”
The look she gave him was so full of sorrow, loss and suffering, his voice trailed off. She seemed to be saying, “You can’t help me now,” as she shook her head at him and lay her head on his lap. Any other time, he would have treasured the moment, but presently he had a lot on his mind to worry about.

The evening wore on. As it became too dark to see, weariness overtook them from the long events of the day, and the two of them gradually fell asleep, holding one another. The night was cold, so they snuggled closer for warmth in their subconscious, and a smile crept across Peter’s face.

He was dreaming. Sarah was lying in his arms, just as she was in the real world, but it was early morning. They were both awake, though everything seemed dreamy because of the hour. Peter gave her a loving squeeze as she looked up into his eyes. She smiled sadly as she brushed his cheek with her thumb softly, shifting closer to him, and said,
“This can never be.”
He looked questioningly at her, but she had vanished.

His eyes opened, and the bed beside him was empty. The note on the pillow read,
“Goodbye Peter.”
He didn’t spare a moment as he bolted out of bed and ran as fast as he could, leaving the door of the house wide open behind him. He knew where she was. It just a matter of whether he could get there in time to stop her…

The early morning was freezing, the dew numbing his bare feet, but he barely noticed. He stumbled through the brush, ignoring the scratches from the thorns and branches, until he came to the river he had fallen in all those years ago. His eyes raced across it, looking for any sign of her, his head spinning. Putting his fatigue to the back of his mind, he ran alongside the creek until he saw her white shirt and black hair floating almost peacefully in the currents.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he dove into the water, the iciness stinging every inch of his skin, but he continued to battle against the flow until he gripped her arm and tugged her to the surface. Gasping for breath, he dragged her onto the ground nearby and checked her heartbeat with shaking hands. It was slow, but existent. Rolling her onto her side, he pat her back forcefully until she coughed out the water weakly and gasped in a breath. Rolling onto her back, she looked up at him.
“You shouldn’t have come… just let me go Peter.”
“Never. We have to get you some help…”
She shook her head at him, her skin a faint blue, before she passed out.

Wasting no further time, he eased his arm under her legs and back and lifted her gently from the ground. Despite the fact his arms were shaking, he would not drop his burden, and so it was he made his way carefully but hastily back to the town.

***

The first thing Sarah heard was a man talking.“She doesn’t look like she’s going to make it…”
She heard a voice she recognized… it sounded so familiar, so… sad.
“She has to... She will… Don’t you dare say otherwise.”
“What I say isn’t going to change anything. If her body doesn’t start fighting back soon, she’s going to-”
“Don’t you dare say it!”
There was a silence, before one pair of footsteps trailed away and a door closed.
Her eyelids felt heavy, but she forced them open with a groan.
“Sarah! You’re awake!” That voice… It was Peter… oh no, that meant…
“God damnit Peter, I said let me die...” it hurt to speak; her voice burned with every syllable.
“Just rest. You need to regain your strength…” She shook her head at him mercilessly. There were tears behind his eyes, but he was refusing to let them fall. He looked like a mess- his hair was dirty and he was covered in tiny cuts, but somehow, he looked handsome…

Her breathing was becoming strained, her chest feeling heavier with every passing moment. It was when she started to cough but could not gasp in a following breath she realized she was going to die. Sarah looked at the boy who loved her so dearly for the very last time and managed amongst sobs two final words.
“Goodbye Peter.”

She went into code blue.

Peter was ushered from the room as doctors rushed in and tried to resuscitate her, but the life would not return to her body. After a few minutes, there was silence in the room, and one by one they all filed out, avoiding his gaze. The one at the end just put a hand on his shoulder and whispered
“I’m sorry.”

Peter seemed to see for the first time. Fearing what lay inside the room, he took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold. All that was in the room was his soulmate, lying peacefully in the white sheets. He wanted to wake her, to do anything to make her get up and scold him for worrying, to do anything, but she did not.

He knelt before the bed, his body shaking violently as he tried to choke back a sob without success. At last, the tears flowed, and he cried and cried and cried, raising his shaking hands to close her eyes, curling his fingers in her soft black hair, still littered with leaves and twigs.

“Why Jesus, why?” he asked the crucifix on the wall, but the wooden face gave no condolence and simply stared sadly at him. He turned away and pulled himself to his feet, standing over her and brushing her forehead softly. If only he'd been a little faster, or if only he hadn't fallen asleep... Leaning over, he kissed her, for the first and last time, and whispered to unhearing ears,
“I love you.”

He was never heard from again.

***

Labels: prose