Based off of the song "Broken" by Lifehouse. Listen to it after you read to get an idea of how I came up with the idea if you want. Sorry, it's a little long, but I can't really divide it into chapters.
He lay on his bed, not able to sleep. He had gone to bed at 10:00 last night, but now it was 3:00 in the morning. He had tried reading and listening to music, but nothing could get his mind off of her. It had only been a few days since she left him, and he didn’t think he would be able to get over it.
He didn’t want to be this emotional about it, he thought only girls cried when this kind of thing happened to them, but he couldn’t get over her. The way her dark brown hair shimmered in the sunlight. The way her eyes, the color of the ocean, captivated him every time he stared into them. He had loved her in a way he had loved no one else, but for some reason she had left him. She didn’t even say goodbye, “But neither have you,” he thought.
He blamed it on himself for her leaving, but couldn’t figure out why. The fight wasn’t her fault, and nobody could have predicted her leaving right after that. They had had good times, many, many good times before them. So why should one fight separate them like this?
He remembered when he asked her out on a first date. He remembered all the dates. All the good times they had together. Now the memories came to him in a wave of thought.
He thought of how afraid he had been to ask her out. He had walked up to her awkwardly; they had met in high school, senior year. It was the last nine weeks of school when he finally mustered up the strength to ask her on a date.
As he walked up to her his tongue seemed to swell to twice its size. As he got closer to her he forgot what he was going to say. He had planned his words yesterday, but didn’t get to see her. His chance had come and he couldn’t let it fly away from him. He reached her desk and put one hand in his pocket and the other on his desk.
“Hey Melissa,” he said, lamely.
“Hey Mark,” she responded uncomfortably.
“I was thinking...maybe you wanted to see a movie or something this weekend?”
“Umm...I guess I don’t have plans this weekend, why not?”
So that weekend they had gone to the movies together. What movie Mark could not remember, but he did remember how good she had looked. She had curled her hair, and wore a green blouse and jeans. She was wearing make-up, but not too much. Just enough to cover her blemishes. He wouldn’t have cared anyway, who didn’t have some imperfection?
After the movie he drove her home. He walked her up to the door, and before she went in she said, “That was really fun. We should do it again sometime.” He nodded back in agreement. It wasn’t a kiss, but it felt like one to his mind. She actually liked him! He didn’t think it would have worked out that way.
The memory brought a small smile to his face that faded almost instantly. If she liked him so much, and he liked her back, why did he let her leave? He should have talked to her. Tell her everything was going to be alright. Let her know that it wouldn’t happen again. But he didn’t. He was too angry to say anything after the fight.
Another memory came to his mind and rested there. Their first kiss. Where had it been? It was at the carnival, on the Ferris Wheel. The ecstasy of the moment came back to him. The pure joy and shock as her lips touched his.
She had called him earlier that day.
“Hello,” he answered.
“Hey, it’s Melissa.”
“Hey do you wanna go to the carnival? It’s the last day it’s in town, and I still haven’t gone.”
“Uh...sure, what time should I pick you up?”
“Five-ish I think. It closes at ten, and I’m only a few minutes away from it.”
“O.K. see ya then!”
So he had gotten ready. By the time he had taken a shower, ate, and brushed his teeth it was four-thirty. He had to go, or he would be late. He said bye to his mom, who was reading the paper in the living room, and left the house.
He got to Melissa’s house at five o’clock exactly. He was starting to open his door, to get her when she came running out of her house. As she opened the door he heard her say bye to somebody, and she ran to his car.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Not much, just going to the carnival want to come along?”
She giggled, and responded, “Why not? I mean I was headed toward your car anyway.”
He smiled and opened the passenger door for her. He got in himself then drove to the carnival, following her directions.
He paid for the tickets. She was going to stop him, but it was too late. She took the ticket trying to tell him that she would pay him back, but he wouldn’t allow it.
“That’s what I do; I pay for my girlfriend to go places.”
“Fine, but I’m paying for food if we get anything.”
It was nine-thirty when he got in line for the Ferris Wheel, she had gone to get cotton candy. She came back with a cone of blue fluff.
“Are you alright with blue? I know there’s really no difference in flavor, but I like the blue better.”
“Yeah it’s fine.”
By now they were in the front of the line. They got on the ride, and a man strapped them in. Luckily for them they were the last ones to get on. The wheel spun at a speed where you could feel a soft breeze, but not fast enough to make you sick. After a couple minutes the wheel stopped its cycle. Melissa and Mark were on the very top. They were directly facing the full moon. He put his arm around her shoulders.
“It’s so pretty up here isn’t it?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he responded, he leaned closer to her. Their heads were almost touching.
Time seemed to move slowly as she turned to face him. She wrapped her arms around his body and leaned closer to him. Then with no warning, she was kissing him. A feeling of extreme joy filled his body. He didn’t think any other moment could ever make him feel like this again.
He truly began to love her then. It wasn’t like he hadn’t loved her before then, but this was a different kind of love. This wasn’t just a crush, this was a feeling of true love.
For one last moment he felt the joy inside his body then, like the smile, it faded. He still couldn’t believe what had happened. How had one small fight caused him to feel this way? How had one small fight caused her to leave him forever? He wished she would come back, but knew she wouldn’t. He had left all her stuff where it had been before the fight. He couldn’t urge himself to move it. It was like she hadn’t really gone anywhere, he just couldn’t see her.
Another memory came to him. The engagement. The feelings of the memory were almost the same as the ones from the first date.
He had been planning it for a while now, asking her to marry him. He bought the ring two weeks ago, and decided tonight was the night. They had been going out for three years exactly tonight. In anniversary of their first date, they decided to see a movie. He would do it in the lobby, right after the movie ended, he decided.
Like his first date, the movie was completely wiped out of his head. He was too nervous to actually care about the movie, even though it had been his choice. When the credits started to roll, and the lights came back on he grabbed her hand, and walked into the lobby.
“Stand right here,” he told her.
“O.K.,” she laughed, “Why?”
He got down on one knee and pulled out the ring box, “Melissa, will you marry me?”
“Omigod,” (he remembered it as one word), “yes, yes, yes. I’ll marry you.”
He could hear clapping in the background. People wolf-whistling, and cheering for the newly engaged. He paid attention to none of it; he was too happy to hear it.
This memory brought no smile or chuckle, instead he felt around on her nightstand, picking up her ring. Her one karat gold, diamond ring. He took his off his finger, he couldn’t help but still wear it. He put them together and stared. How the bond between could have been broken, he still wasn’t sure. It was unfair! They were going to get married in a month! They had moved in together. This brought another memory, moving day.
He asked her to move in with him the same night he had gotten engaged with her. Of course she agreed. Together, with money from work, they bought themselves an apartment. It was fairly good sized, not extremely big, and not too small. The rent was cheap and they were allowed to do any renovation they wanted, so long as it didn’t bother the neighbors.
They moved in a few weeks after the engagement. As soon as she started bringing her stuff in she said, “We’re definitely going to need to do some remodeling.”
“When we get the time and the money,” he responded.
Fortunately for them, Melissa’s parents gave them money. Enough money, in fact, to start remodeling. They had started by painting all the rooms.
Next they had bought new furniture to replace the old, cheap things they had moved in with. Then they had begun work on the bathroom. That was as far as they had gotten before she had left him.
He didn’t know if it would be possible to finish the bathroom. In fact the design had been all up to her. He was only trying to fulfill her vision of what the bathroom should look like. She wanted a light brown stone tiling, and a pedestal sink. She wanted to buy a new metal tub/shower combo.
The idea of metal brought up the crash. He didn’t want to think about the crash, but it chewed its way through all of the other memories and filled his mind with the visions. The ruins of what was left of the car. The fire burning in the front. It brought back memories of pure terror.
They were driving home.
They had been fighting earlier. Fighting about the finances.
“Honey, I just don’t think it’s a good idea to continue with the project for now, we have the wedding coming up.”
“Mark! How many times do I have to tell you, my parents are going to pay for the wedding! Don’t worry about a thing.”
“You realize how much we’ve free-loaded off of them right? Most of the renovations have been with their money, remember? Do you think it’s the best idea to ask them for more money now?”
“Mark! Watch the road! You always do that!”
“Do what?!” he almost screamed, “Just because you’re too chicken to try to make a light doesn’t mean I am!”
“Really Mark, really? You could have gotten us killed just then! We’re driving next to a semi, not a nice old lady! Pay attention!”
“Well, it’s kind of hard to pay attention, when all you’re doing is complaining about money, and nagging about my driving!”
“ME! You’re the one complaining about using my parents’ money! I know it’s probably not the best idea, but you’re parents are dead!”
“DON’T YOU BRING UP MY PARENTS!” this time he did scream, no, he roared.
Mark’s parents had died in a house fire five months earlier. A teenager had thought it would be funny to see what happens when you tie the fuses of twenty bottle rockets together, light it, then throw it through somebody else’s window. His mom had heard the window shatter and both of his parents went to see what was going on. The bottle rockets exploded all at once, and knocked his parents, unconscious, against the wall. The carpet burned first, then began to consume the two bodies in its way of the rest of the house. Neither of them came out of the house alive.
“Then shut up about using my parents’ money! They feel sorry for you Mark! They want to pay for our wedding! You’re like a son to them!”
“I don’t want to use their money! We can afford to have a wedding without their help Melissa! You and I both know that!”
“Mark! Watch the road! Mark! Are you paying attention to me?!”
But he was paying attention to her. Too much attention to her. Was it possible to be that pretty when you were mad? When tears were streaming down your eyes and make-up running, could you look good? For Melissa the answer was yes.
Ironically it was a nice old lady who got them into the wreck. Mark had run a red light and was about to T-Bone the women. Quickly he swerved around her, and the car started to spin. It hit a light post on the passenger’s side. Right where Melissa was sitting.
He needed to hear her voice again. She had left after the crash, but he needed to hear her voice. Even if she didn’t pick up, which he knew she wouldn’t, he would hear her voice on the machine; that’s all that mattered. He just needed to apologize. Ask her to come back, even though she wouldn’t. He picked up his phone and called Melissa’s.
Tears began to stream down his face as the blue-white light of her phone turned on. It vibrated on her night stand and as it did he began to sob, harder each time. Finally her voicemail answered.
“Hi, you’ve reached Melissa, leave your name, number, and message after the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
The generic tone went off, and Mark hung up. He knew he would never see her again. He continued to sob, just thinking of her made it worse. And he had to sign funeral papers tomorrow.