Here's the Part Where I Wish I Were Dead

I moved slowly out of the bathroom, knowing my eyes were stained with tears. Tears that weren't my own. Melanie ran out. She looked at my wet face with a confused glance. I sniffled and looked down at the popcorn covered floor. She looked at at me, and positioned herself so that her lips meant mine once again.

I pushed her away. I shook my head to her, my mouth trembling and my eyes were blurring. "What's wrong?" She asked me softly.

"Get up," I grumbled. She did as I asked her to do. I wiped my eyes. I shook my head, I couldn't come up with words, nor would I have been able to speak them if I even knew what to say. I hit my face against my wrist. "I can't do this," I sobbed. "I just can't. Just go."

"You drove me here," She mumbled. I yelled out into the air. She backed away. I fell to the floor. I needed to get out of here. Of anything I needed to get out of here.

She looked into my eyes, and I gazed into hers. "Ian," She said sweetly in her soft angelic voice. 'What?' I mouthed to her. At that moment I noticed she was starring nervously down at my lips. I smiled to her. "Ian, I love you." I was shocked. Never before had I had a girl who told me she loved me. I knew Aaliya was something special. I would always know.

I would have returned the words back to her, but it was irresistable. I saw her starring at my lips, licking her own. I couldn't help myself. I grabbed her chin, and pulled her face forward. I pressed my lips against hers, and she moved hers along with me. My mind raced. My heart beated like a racecar. When we finally pulled away I murmered back; "I love you too." If we were old enough, and I had a ring on me, I would've asked her to marry me at that moment. But we were only sixteen, we coudln't.

It was the day of the Funeral. I snuck out of the house with the help of Juliet, who ended up being the coolest fake little sister any guy could have. I wore a black buttoned down shit and fancy black pants. I wore my black converse.

I walked into the Funeral home, my arms crossed. There I saw a group of my family members. I walked through a little more and there I saw my father. He looked over at me, and I smiled at him although he didn't recognize me. He only recognized the me that was dead in that casket in the other room.

He was alone now. If only there was something that I could do to make it better. He lost his mother, and she was replaced by me. Now he lost me, but no one took my place. No one could ever take my mother's place, besides someone who had some of my mother in them. But I didn't even fill her void. Now there were two voids that never had anything to fill them even a little bit.

I couldn't help but grieve the fact that I was still here, but I couldn't be here for him. He had nothing to live for. He looked numb. No emotions, but he tried to put up a front in front of my grandparents and his siblings.

I walked into the other room, keeping to myself even though I wanted to talk to someone so badly. In the next room there was Aaliya. I stopped in my tracks as she looked over at me. She walked up to me and I felt my heart shatter.

"Who are you?" She asked, her voice just as beautiful as I remembered.

"Lucas," I mumbled softly.

"Nice to meet you Lucas," She greeted, holding out her hand. I grabbed it and we shook hands. I had the urge to pull her up and  kiss her like I would any other day. But I couldn't. "I'm Aaliya. Were you a friend of Ian?"

"Yeah," I answered mournfully. She looked down at the floor, and then up at the ceiling. I could see her chocking back tears. She fell into my arms, crying now, letting her emotions get the best of her.

"I can't believe he's gone," She sobbed into my shirt. I couldn't stand to see her cry. "I loved him. I really truely loved him." I felt sympathy for her. I wanted to come out and say that it was me, me Ian. She wouldn't believe me.

She looked up at me as I hugged her back. I rubbed her back and shushed her cries. She starred into my eyes, and shifted her head to the side.

She sniffled, "You sort of remind me of him."

"Really?" I asked her.

"Yeah," She sobbed. "You do." She took my arm and showed me to the casket. "Here he is."

I looked down into the casket and saw my face, cold and colorless. I felt a chill go down my spin. 'That should be me,' I thought to myself. 'I should be laying there dead. I should be passed on. I shouldn't be here. I should be where I belong, dead, worth dying.'

I found myself crying again and Aaliya held me close. I sighed.

"Hey, give me your number," She demanded sweetly.

My number? Uh, what was that again?

"Nah, I'll call you," I told her. "I don't have a pen or paper to write mine for you."

"Well don't you need my number?" She asked.

"I memorized all of Ian's numbers,' I explained. She raised an eyebrow. "I had to write them out and exchange them to different phones a lot. That kind of stuff." She nodded.

The End

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