Make Her Smile

Prologue; Hurt.

The wind was quite breezy that warm April afternoon. Calm, pale-yellow light was cast upon any face it would grace itself to touch. Things seemed quite ordinary that day, what with it being so close to Easter Sunday and a feeling of peace sweeping over the small town. A smile held the faces of nearly everyone in sight, the breeze ruffling the newly-shown green grass that had been shielded by snow for such a long time.

Yes, things that day seemed fairly normal and simplistic; that is, for everyone except two young, innocent souls.

The first was a boy. He was, in fact, the cause of the entire problem, even though it was hardly his fault. That child just did not understand how to be resistible to the other distraught child.

The second was a girl. She was the one in the wrong in this case, if you could call having your first crush a crime. It was most definitely not, that's what you've just got to understand. Having your first crush is perfectly normal, and everyone has got someone they just fell in love with from the moment they met them.

But things were more complex than just a silly first crush.

She truly loved that boy. What most would find unfathomable, she loved that boy more than anyone else she had ever met. She found him cute, funny, charismatic, and utterly irresistible. She loved everything about him; his eyes, how they held just the right amount of light and joy; his smile, how it was mysterious, smug, and nearly always crooked. She honestly loved that boy. But, there was only one problem.

He didn't love her back.

In fact, most could not stand her, for she was a bit obsessive and awkward. On top of that, she was overweight for a girl her age, and she wasn't any bit prettier than another girl in her class.

This girl was average, and was no where near good enough for him.

She knew that he would never like her, of course, but she couldn't stop her feelings from changing. This resulted in her affection from afar and small comments directed at him every now and then.

Now, you must remember, these children are merely in the fourth grade; how much can you feel when you are that young of age?

Well, there is only a certain amount of love one can produce at the age of ten. But, there are things one can feel stronger than love at that age. At the tender age of ten.

And one thing that can be felt more powerfully than any other emotion: rejection.

The young girl, on that breezy, peaceful day on an April afternoon, held her knees to herself as if she was hanging on to dear life. She held on so tightly, trying to console herself as much as possible. Sadly, this attempt only helped for a moment before letting her feel the full force of pain.

Pain is a funny thing; it, at first, comes in small pellets, like rain. Then, once you've started to feel the emotion, it dulls for a moment. Almost as if you've been caught in the eye of a tornado, or the eye of a hurricane. And, the moment you think you've been saved, bam -- you get hit even worse than before with that pain that rushes over you like a wave.

Her friends, all around her, consoled the child and tried helping her in her time of need. They wanted her to be happy once again. They wanted her to be her usual self, the one that was full of life and love.

But, those same friends who tried to make her feel happier were the same ones that had sold her feelings out to him. To that boy that she had harbored such intense, strong feelings for.

Some friends, she thought bitterly, hugging her knees tighter to herself. They're the ones that made me this. That turned me into this. They sold me out. They sold out our trust. And for what? For one instance of importance because they could provide him with something he wanted to know. They sold out our trust.

All she wanted to be was alone. She did not want to see any of her so-called friends. She did not want to hear about how he would go to that other girl the next day and profess his feelings for her, to leave our young heroine in chaos and devistation.

No one cared about how she felt. No one cared about how she dealt with the aftermath of the consequences of her friends' actions. No one cared about her.

Just as I have pointed out earlier, you can only feel things so greatly as a child. There is a certain extent to which you must be allowed to express emotions.

But this is what their story is about; the feeling of such a young soul's feeling surpassing those of any adult. The girl felt detested, hated, and she felt, most of all, rejected.

A piece of that girl died that day.

And, slowly, even more pieces began to blow away. Like dust.