Wednesday, April 25, 2007
i was reading kat's blog today. she posted a story. somehow... this story seemed so.. i dont know... sigh. anyway, the story was nice, but it was just one of those stories that stand out in a crowd... at least to me. . .
i feel like quoting her story.. A huge chunk of it. haha. later she kill me. haha. the only problem with the story is that the ending is too happy. i cant stand it. haha/ no offense kattoes. haha. "kattoes"----> your new name. :)
ANYWAY. i am going to quote. or kope. ahah. actually i have no idea what in the world is KOPE but it just sounds appropriate. so ya.
:)
REMEMBER!!! I DID NOT WRITE THIS!! ALL CREDIT GOES TO KAT!!!
Her heart hammered in her chest as she gingerly replaced the phone in its cradle.
"Meet me," he had said. "Meet me at South Point in fifteen minutes." Throwing on her best coat, Brooke flew out the door, hands instinctively balling into fists. Under normal circumstances, she would have taken her time getting ready. But this was not a normal circumstance. Oliver was, by no means, a normal boy.
It was funny how, despite having known each other for so long, despite being the best of friends for two years, the very thought of meeting him alone still made her feel like she was falling into a bottomless pit.
She inhaled deeply and continued running, her sneakers slipping on the wet ground. South Point was only a five-minute walk away. It was where she had first met Oliver, when she was fourteen and he, fifteen. His father owned the drug store there, and she had been on an errand for her mother. At the time, she had been quite unable to understand how an average-looking boy could hold the world in his eyes, but she knew better than to question fate. That was the start of a beautiful friendship.
Brooke shivered and drew her coat around her tighter. Only a while more. She wondered what Oliver had to say that was of such importance that he had to call her out at ten freezing pm.
It would have been nice if they had managed to stay as platonic friends, but as we all know, friendship crosses the line to something more all too often. She was the first to realise it, to notice that his eyes lingered on her just a moment too long, that when they touched it was like being electrocuted. Indeed, he began to treat her like he had never met anyone more special. She had not said anything for fear of being laughed at, but secretly, she was glad. From day one, she had wished for something more. All she needed was his confession. I don't make first moves.
Brooke spotted a shadowy figure standing outside the South Point drug store. As she hurried towards it, Oliver stepped forward and smiled at her, immediately making her feel like she had just downed an entire mug of hot chocolate. "Hey."
"Hey." She glanced nervously at the interior of the brightly lit store. "Shouldn't we... go somewhere else? Your dad might see us."
"Oh. Oh yeah." Oliver grabbed her hand and started walking. She fell in step beside him, palm still burning. "Can you believe this? I never thought it possible that it could rain for three days straight. Good thing it's over now."
Brooke's eyes snapped towards him, her heart sinking. Surely he had not called her out just to chit-chat about the damn weather? For god's sake, she was going to turn into a human popsicle any moment. A little irritated, she cut to the chase. "Um, yeah. Good thing. Listen, Ollie, what is it you wanted to talk to me about? Because I'm really tired. I was just about to go to bed when you called me." To her utter bewilderment, a shadow crossed Oliver's face and he wrung his hands nervously. "Oh, you were? I'm so sorry. We can continue this conversation tomorrow, if you want." Was it Brooke's imagination, or did he seem a little distracted? His eyes were darting left and right, as if looking for an escape route.
"No, Ollie. You've already dragged me out here, you might as well tell me what's going on so I can go home sooner." She crossed her arms and stared at him firmly, but her confidence wavered. Why was he behaving so suspiciously?
"Okay." Oliver bit his lip. "Um, you see, there's something I've been needing to tell you." At those words, Brooke tried to maintain her composure, but felt her insides churning. Alarm bells were clanging somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind. Nothing good ever began with those few words. Oliver looked at her expectantly, but when she did not say anything, he took a deep breath and continued. "It's like this... Recently, I couldn't help but feel this... connection. With you."
In a flash, Brooke was back in the past. It was a lazy summer night, much like tonight, minus the rain. She and Oliver had gone out for dinner with a group of friends, and they were sitting under the stars, pondering their future lives. "Maybe we can go to California together one day," she was saying. Beside her, Oliver tensed and turned with a pained expression on his face. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and then opened it once more. "Hey, um... I've been meaning to tell you this for a while, and I'm sorry for not doing so sooner, but..." he broke off. Brooke looked at him, frowning slightly. "Go on. "Oliver licked his lips and continued. "Please don't think we're more than friends." Brooke felt something inside her break. "...What?" "What I mean is," Oliver continued hurriedly, as if eager to get it over with, "You're a great girl and all, you're lots of fun, but I like someone else too much. And I don't want to jeopardise our friendship."
"But I thought you felt it too," Brooke whispered, unaware of the hot tears already flowing down her cheeks. "You were treating me so well. You felt it too, I know you did." She got up to leave, but her legs felt like lead. Oliver grabbed her arm, her pain reflected in his eyes. "Brooke. Don't. I'm sorry." "Don't talk to me. You're good at that," she muttered. She had wrenched her arm out of his grasp and run all the way home, never once looking back.
For a week, she ignored his calls, avoided him at school. How could he? The deceitful, lying bastard. He had led her on. But try as she might, she could not stop thinking about him. And the more she thought about him, the more she missed him. Until, one day, when Oliver tried to speak to her for the thousandth time, she did not turn and run in the other direction. She was tired, so tired of the crying and loneliness. Right then, all she wanted was to hear his voice again, look into those eyes that had once held so much promise.
"Can we forget this?" Oliver had said softly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but I don't want to lose you." And because she had missed him so much, because she was a stupid, pathetic, naive girl who truly believed he would never hurt her again, she nodded.
Now, here he stood in front of her, pushing her off the same cliff twice. Before she knew what she was doing, Brooke shook her head and backed away, her mind a whirlpool of shock, confusion and pain. "Wait! Please don't go. Please listen to me." Oliver stepped forward, his face screwed up with emotions similar to that fateful night so long ago. "It's just... I have this feeling. About you. That I can't ignore. I know what I did in the past, but we're over that and --" He never finished his sentence. Brooke shoved him in the chest, harder than she had intended to. By now, she could hardly see, her eyes swimming with tears. "You hurt me once, and you think you can just come back and say, 'Oh, I changed my mind'? Well, fuck you, Oliver! It doesn't work that way!" Sobbing uncontrollably, Brooke spun around and ran blindly in the other direction. She had to get away, she had to go somewhere, anywhere.
Oliver, who had fallen onto the ground, dumbfounded, scrambled to his feet and began to chase after her. Oh, god, I've done it again. I have to catch her, I have to explain. He was so focused on that thought that he never saw the oncoming car.
Brooke turned around when she heard the collision. The sight of Oliver bleeding on the road seemed so far away, like a distant memory. She ran back towards him and held his head in her hands, staring into his dull eyes, the eyes that were once bright. He smiled at her weakly, words managing to slip out of his slick, cherry-red lips. "I'm sorry. I love you." She was barely aware as the ambulance arrived minutes later, as the paramedics pried Oliver's head out of her bloody hands and loaded him onto a stretcher, as they led her into the back of the vehicle. She did not even register their arrival at the A&E unit of the hospital, did not notice as a flurry of nurses unloaded the stretcher and disappeared into the nearest room, taking Oliver away from her.
It was two am before a doctor came out of the room to find Brooke still sitting there, face buried in her hands, body shaking with sobs. He bent down and gently put his hand on her shoulder. Brooke lifted her head slowly, blinking to focus on the doctor's grave face. Her eyes were so swollen that she could only see a portion of his expression, but it told her all she needed to know: Oliver's dead. And it's my fault.
"I understand you're a friend of Oliver's." The doctor spoke softly, as if afraid that Brooke would crumble and disappear if he spoke any louder. Brooke closed her eyes, expecting the worst. "The crash was pretty serious. However," he smiled as Brooke looked up, surprised. "He has somehow managed to avoid any brain damage whatsoever. He'll pull through, and should be able to get out of here within less than a week." He patted Brooke on the shoulder one last time and left. She stared after him, stunned, wondering if she had only imagined it, if she had been so devastated by Oliver's death that her mind had somehow made this up.
"Um, excuse me! Doctor?" The kindly doctor turned around and smiled at her. "Yes?" "May I... May I go in and see him now?" Brooke's voice shook. She knew that there was a very slight chance of the doctor agreeing to her request, but she had to try. She had to see Oliver, see if he was indeed alright. And if he wasn't... She had to say goodbye. To her surprise, however, the doctor nodded. "Sure you may. In fact, I daresay him seeing you will help him further along the road to recovery." He winked, eyes twinkling, and continued walking.
It was all the encouragement Brooke needed. She tore into the room the doctor had come out from. Upon seeing her, the group of nurses surrounding Oliver's bed parted. Lying there, swathed in bandages, looking haggard but happy to see her, was Oliver. His mouth formed a single word, wrapped around her name. She stepped gingerly towards him, staring hard, lip trembling, afraid that if she made one wrong move or even blinked, she would wake up and realise that Oliver wasn't okay after all. She kneeled at his bedside and wordlessly reached under the covers for his hand. As she lay her head on his shoulder, the tears came again. The exhaustion, relief and guilt came pouring out like a waterfall. Brooke didn't know how long she had been there, crying, but when she looked up, Oliver was smiling at her. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I just couldn't lose you. I couldn't let you go."
Brooke squeezed his hand. "Don't worry," she whispered back. "I'm never leaving you again."
SEE! WHAT DID I SAY? THE ENDING IS TOO PERFECT! HAHA/ JKJK. BUT IT IS/ :)
REMEMBER!!!! ALL CREDIT GOES TO KAT!! SHE WROTE THIS STUFF. CAN BECOME A NOVEL MANZ. (i have no idea actually. i've never read a novel) :)
-jamie-
avoid the aliens;
5:26 PM
