St. Patrick

     ONE WEEK LATER....

     I start to cry- no, sob, is a more appropriate word.

     HOW DARE HE!!!

     I cannot believe that my favorite TV couple just broke up!! All because that man who promised before God that he would be faithful to his woman for the rest of time cheated on her with someone younger! His wife was completely in the right to leave him!

     I turn the TV off, and let my tears run their course.

     Okay, here's what you should know about the past week: I've been an emotional wreck. It's been so hard the past week. I always had hope that my parents were still alive, but now I had nothing. Just the shattered mess called my life. What was I supposed to do now? They were gone. Really gone.

     Oh, God, this hurts.

     I wipe my tears away. Crying about every little thing! I shake my head- that wasn't like me. Well, the old me.

     Knock, knock, knock.

     I sit up suprised at first. Then my next thought- Oh no! I'm a mess, a mess! I'm wearing pajamas! Look at all these tissues! Oh no! I'm not prepared for a visitor!

     Then I realize that I don't care. Let them see me like this! I dare them!

     I head towards the front door running on pure self- righteousness. I swing it open.

     Shoot. I get knocked off my high- horse.

     It's Sulley.

     He looks me up and down, and I wiggle uncomfortably under his stare. He smiles.

     "You're a mess, babe."

     As if I already didn't know.

***************************************************************************

    "Can I come in?" He asks. I scrutinize him. Tall. Brown hair, blue eyes. Handsome.

     "I guess so. Well, at least my neighbors will be proud." I let him in.

     He grins, entering. 

     "What do you mean?"

     "They're always telling me how a pretty young thing like me needs a man. And here you are, on my doorstep. It must be a sign from God. Hallelujah." I usher him to my living room. He sits on a chair, the only piece of furniture not occupied with blankets, pillows, and tissues. I flop on the couch.

     Sulley then looks at me seriously.

     "How are you?" He asks in earnest.

     "What do you think?" I smirk, trying to put on a brave face.

     "You're right, stupid question. Are you getting any better?" It then hits me that he actually cares. He's not doing this for brownie points, he's doing it because he wants to know that I'm okay. Which is really sweet. 

     "I'm getting better. I think. I just feel kind of lost. I mean what next? My family is gone. It's just me."

     "I have something for you." He hands me a pocket watch. I look at it, not sure how to respond.

     "It was my dad's. My mom died giving birth to me, so he was all I had. He died from a heart attack right before I graduated high school. It was really hard for me, - I didn't feel like moving on. I felt like giving up- but then I realized after a few weeks that I still had great memories of him, and that it was gonna be hard, but I should continue on the way pop woulda wanted. I keep the watch with me because it was his favorite. It reminds me of him. I know it's hard for you too. Probably more so, considering your parents died before their time." I look down at my hands, still holding the watch. Sulley comes over and sits on the couch, putting his hands over mine.

     "Maria, look at me." I do, and try not to cry.

     "Just because your parents died, doesn't mean that you have to die along with them. And I don't mean physically, I mean that you don't have to stop living life and being happy. I could always tell that you had sadness in you. But it was outshined by all the light in you. It's okay to mourn. Just don't make it your whole life."

     I wipe away the tears that have collected, and wrap my arms around him.

     "Thanks." I lean back, and look him squarely in the eye. I've made up my mind.

     "I need to solve my parents' murder."

     "I had a feeling you just might say that." He half smiles, his eyes gleaming.

     My heart gives a squeeze, and then I realize I still have my arms around him. I unwrap them, embarrassed.

     "Sorry, Sulley." I say looking down.

     "It's okay. By the way, call me Patrick." 

         

      

    

   

    

The End

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