I look down at my shoes, feeling guilt go thru my body. I kick the ashes from the fire around and find a tombstone. I remove some more ashes to reveal the name. At first I have to do a double take. Then I hold back all the fiery and read the name aloud. “ Andre C. Amos Jr., 1965-1982.” That’s when the memories start to pour into my mind. The nightmares. Me, pushing thru the crowd, screaming his name thru the roar thinking he can hear me. Him, mouthing the words, “shoot me now,” before he took a gunshot trying to escape the pair of hands dragging him. All the sleepless nights I had, wondering where he was. The day he opened up to me, telling me everything he’s been thru with his family. When he gave me a bracelet, which I still wear today, to symbolize our friendship. And the night he told me he loved me, and we promised to do anything for each other. And now this, me looking down at his tombstone. I never knew he died. It still seems like it was yesterday when I seen his face. But no one told me he died. No one. That’s when the hatred starts to run thru my body like a river pouring into me.







“Why wouldn’t they tell me? My family, my friends. Why? Did they think it was a joke? Why? Why me? Why my best friend?” Were all the questions that were floating around in my head.
When I started to zone back into reality, I found myself walking away from the tombstone and to my projects. I run briskly thru my house, and go into a little closet that has jackets and cloaks hanging down from it. I rip everything down and onto the floor. I curl up in the corner, making myself smaller and smaller, trying to disappear entirely. Wrapped in silence, I close my eyes, and slide my bracelet that reads BEST FRIENDS around and around on my wrist. His words linger in my mind, “ Shoot me now,” repeating itself like a song. I picture that moment when we stared deep into each other’s eyes one night. Crystal blue, never leaving mine. Guarding me from the night.
Periodically, I leave the closet to go bathe. I look into the mirror, into what seems to be my reflection. The burns on my naked body from the fire, the sickly green color on my face. My bloodshot red eyes. Soon, , I find myself outside in the woods, standing at our old place, where we would come to talk. Whenever we talked here, it felt as if we were the only two people in this world. Like nothing else mattered, but us. I turn my head and look over at the tree we carved our initials into last year. AA+AK= ?. Then I get into my feelings. Without thinking, I grab a rope, and wrap it around my burned neck. We had a promise, that I would do anything for him as he would do anything for me. So what did I do? I stood on a stump, and got prepared to meet Andre in the afterlife. “ A promise is a promise,” I told myself quietly as I smoothly glided to the right, off the stump. “ A promise is a promise,” I whispered to myself again. Then I tilted a little more. Until, next thing you know, I was hanging there. Motionless. . . .
I thought I was dead. But I was still breathing, and blinking. All things you couldn’t do when you’re dead. Is this real? Or just a dream? A opened my eyes. With many more attempts , I was still alive! How is this happening? Why am I still here? I wondered many more questions, but never got any answers. So, I left the hanging tree, and went back to his tombstone. Anger and hatred upraised in me when I seen it. I felt as if I needed to let it all out. Somehow. Someway. Soon. Very soon. I couldn’t control my feelings. I slammed to my knees, and started banging on the dirt in front of the tombstone. Then I started talking. I looked up at the sky, “ Andre, sweet , sweet Andre. I can’t die. I didn’t break the promise, I just can’t die. I tried, you seen me! I just .. don’t know what’s happening.” I heard a reply, and it sounded like my voice, it was just in my head. It said carefully and wisely, “ Arabella , you can see Andre again, just believe in the power of true love.” So I started digging into the dirt that beheld his body. And didn’t stop, either. I dug and dug until I hit something hard. His casket. It was the color of his eyes, crystal blue. A casket , his casket. With his body. Andre’s. The emotions whipped up inside me like a tornado as I began to open it. But I hesitated. Then I gently closed my eyes, and opened it. When I opened my eyes, I saw my long lost love. The wind is blowing thru his blonde hair. I see his body, laying still in the casket. The sunlight dims on his bracelet, that has the print BESTFRIENDS on it. Identical to the one on my wrist. I smoothly lean in close to his body and lay my head on his chest. I heard a sound , like a heartbeat. But I thought it was just mine beating really loud since I was nervous. Then, shockingly, his eyes open. Crustal blue, hypnotizing. This causes me to jump up from the casket. “ How .. how are you…? “ He finished my sentence, “ Alive? Oh , cause you believed in the power of love. True Love.” Then I think, was that him talking to me in my head? I stand there, motionless. Like I was at the hanging tree. My hazel eyes lock onto his, like they used to before. Words cant explain how im feeling right now. He doesn’t ne to say words for how he’s feeling, either. His eyes say it all. His eyes tell a story. That he missed me dearly , and can’t even explain how he’s feeling right now. So what do I say? “ I love you,” as I lean in to kiss his cold , yet warm lips.
EPILOUGE:
They dance and spin in the woods, not never knowing me & Andre’s secret. It took me 11 years to agree. Meadow sits there, on her chubby toddler legs. While Melody stands up more maturely, on her tall, lean legs. And Andre? He never left my side again. Wherever I went, he went also. Just to protect me. Were always together, smiling, laughing. Doing anything to enjoy life. And if you’re wondering, when we left his empty casket, we never returned. We ran away into the woods and built a house with the wood from the trees. Our kids have much space to run and play. And the hanging tree? Still has the rope on it from when I tried to kill myself. We actually turned it into a swing , for the kids. And they play on it every day. I’ll never tell my kids what happened years ago, with me and Andre. And why they don’t have any friends or family to play with in the woods. Andre said it’s ok. And they’ll understand at a more mature age. He says everything will be alright, because each other, were all we really need.
THE END.