• I wasn’t bothered by the silence as I watched him manipulate the notes into different patters. His long pale white fingers silhouetted across the white and black marble keys on the piano. I was mesmerized by the look in his emerald eyes. They were excited, happy, as he played his melody. Every now and again he would glance at me, still playing the music. I had a feeling he didn’t need to look at the music. He seemed like a master as he jumped from key to key, note to note. When the piece was done he stood up, his lengthy body hovering over me, smiling as he held his hand out. I took it without hesitation, like the many times I had before. He gazed into my eyes, trying to see my reaction of the piece he had played. I tried to speak but no words would come out, so I just gazed back at him, hoping he would know anything he did I would love.
    The alarm clock startled me. Every morning I woke up to the same annoying buzz and my mom banging on my door. She always yelled at me to get out of bed or I’ll be late, according to her. Just like I did every morning I grabbed my pair of old worn-out blue jeans and one of my many sports sweatshirts that I threw over a tank top. I grabbed my bag and sprinted down the stairs, just in time to catch my mom glaring at me from the corner of her hazel eyes.
    “Come on Abby it’s your last year of high school! Your not going to graduate because of tardiness,” she shriked at me as I grabbed my car keys and headed out the door. What a nag I thought to myself as I stuck the key into the ignition of my red 1990 Chrysler LeBaron Convertible. For the past year and a half I’d been working a part time job at the
    restaurant, Elle Est Belle, to get enough money to buy a car that’s been created in the last decade. My mom said it worked fine but my dad sided with me, just as always.
    As I pulled into Cranberry Highs parking lot I saw yellow caution tape that said “keep out.” What now, I thought. In the past two months the police have come to our school on multiple occasions such as pulling fire alarms, fights, and other things along those lines. I parked on the side to see what was going on.
    My heart beat quickened and my breathing became short rasps as I saw two cars lodged into each other. The Blue Toyota looked familiar. As I took a step forward I could see the license plate was DCG6624. I fell to my knees and tears started to roll down my cheeks. I wasn’t sure of what was going on around me. All I remember was a few policemen and firemen were carrying me off to somewhere. I didn’t care where I was going. I didn’t care what happened to me. Everything was black and numb, but I could feel myself moving.
    When I woke up I was in the school nurse’s office with my mom staring down at me with tear stained eyes. She saw me look at her and she grabbed me in her arms.
    “What happened” I said slowly, terrified of the answer. Not letting go of me she replied, ”There was an accident in the parking lot, and you collapsed,” she said between sobs.
    “Who was it,” I demanded as I tried to pry her off of me. I looked in her eyes and could see straight through to her soul. I knew who it was when she didn’t say anything. I felt a chill down my spine as I mouthed the name, Ace. I couldn’t find myself to say his name out loud. The memories I had of him flooded my conscious. I couldn’t think of anything but him. I didn’t believe he was gone. I had to see him myself. I stood up from the bed and ran out of the door, as my mom was calling after me to stop. I didn’t stop, and I didn’t want to. I ran to the parking lot where they had brought an ambulance. I went to the gurney they had and ripped the covers off of the shape that was under it.
    Ace was there. He looked like he was asleep. He looked peaceful. I grabbed his face and started to rub it very gently, like when you hold a baby kitten. I felt hands grab from behind me and they started tugging on me and pulling me away. I was kicking against them while I reached for Ace’s hand to hold me to himself. He never reached back. That was the first time I realized he was gone. I let the hands pull at me like a sea of waves and slowly drift me out to ocean. I subsided and thought I would never resurface.
    My mom sent me to so many therapists I couldn’t count them if I wanted to. She tried everything in the book to help me get better over the past three years. Nothing worked. All that happened was they brought back painful and wonderful memories of the time I had with him. The memories they brought back all eventually led to me hitting the brick wall I had so many other times. I realized there was no hope to fix the broken pieces. No matter what anyone did there was never going to be anyone to stitch the broken pieces back together.
    March 4, exactly three years after the accident the pain became unbearable. I felt myself run. I didn’t know to where but somehow I ended up in a forest clearing. I knew this clearing. I would take walks with Ace here frequently. Why here I thought as I threw my hand at the sky screaming “Take me! Take me now! I have nothing else to loose!” I’m not sure how long I stood there just staring at the sky and letting my mind wander. As I remembered that day tears started to seep out of my eyes. The accident. The pain. The loss. Every moment since then has been to rebuild myself and forget, but some memories are too hard to forget. I slowly watched my life fall apart, kind of like the clouds. At first they start out pure and you see it as a whole. Overtime it slowly starts to unravel and piece by piece it disappears. What was I now? Was I that one piece that was left behind or forgotten? How would I start to rebuild my life after this relapse? Maybe that question will never be answered. Maybe I’ll disappear into the unknown just as I had planned to do years ago. Time can’t always fix the hurt you’ve experienced.
    That day as I stood on that open plain of land in the forest clearing I herd his voice ring like millions of bells across the flowers and streams. I herd the music he played for me that one day as the sun set. Another day is over but maybe I can survive. I know I can go on as long as he’s here, right by my side. Tomorrow doesn’t matter. A year from now doesn’t matter because we may not be here that long. I try to live everyday to its fullest, until its bursting at the seams. It’s what he wants and one day I’ll see him again and he’ll know I lived for him. I breathed for him, I sang for him, I celebrated for him, I danced for him, I learned for him, I jumped for him, I ran for him, and when the time comes I’ll die for him.