Author: Icarus Kid PM
'It doesn't take a genius to know that, at some point in our lives, we'll feel the cold, dark sting of love.' - One young man gives his life in a flash to save another, only to ponder on love and it's meaning seconds later. Did he truly make the right choice? Will the girl in his heart ever know? Can he forgive himself?Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Tragedy - Words: 792 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 10-21-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3067497
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
It doesn't take a genius to know that, at some point in our lives, we'll feel the cold, dark sting of love. Every now and then, after the first serving of our heart, we dare to open up again, only for those that we trusted to cause us further heartache and pain. True, there are those who wish to save us, to hold us, but it's so very hard to find someone who cares about you. Perhaps that is why, in my eyes at least, love is very much like life: The bad guys win, gaining the fame, fortune and those that they desire, while the good guys are left in the dust, ready to fall and break like shattered glass.
I am, without any doubt in my mind, a failure. This is not because my mother and father don't love me, nor is it because I had some traumatic childhood. It is simply because I lack the one thing everyone needs - Somebody to truly care for; an object for my affections. They call me a narcissist, yet I am no such thing. I try to care for those that claim to care for me, truly I do, but each and every time I find myself giving them the cold shoulder. Maybe it's because I don't wish for them to be hurt like I was - Led on only to be left behind as soon as I fell into a ditch. Or there's the possibility that it's entirely because of that person. She left me, broken and bruised, waiting for her to return my feelings. Her words were filled with promises that she couldn't, or wouldn't, keep.
Alas, I wandered for so long, lost and frightened of letting others in again…But I did find someone. Claire. Her name is Claire. We went slow, opening up to one another bit by bit. We never allowed ourselves to be slaves to our past, at least not with eachother, as this would not enable us to take control of our future. We would spend hours talking; hours doing nothing; hours just…caring. For one another.
But then another entered the picture. Adam's his name. He was the type of guy that you label to be the 'lone wolf'. I was loud, cheerful and happy on the outside, he was dark, gloomy and disconnected on the outside. We were mirrors of eachother, only what he acted like I secretly was. Claire didn't care. She left me, but who could blame her? I was just a noisy fool. I struggled with emotions. I was…me - A selfish, idiotic mess.
Yet here I am, laying on the concrete. Blood escaping my now fractured body. Flashbacks of what happened. A mother with a pram. A child. A street. A bus. A ball. It's easy to connect the dots. I made a choice in that split second that I had. I was broken and weak. I couldn't come out of my shell anymore. Whatever future God or any other divine being had for me had faded away from light into darkness. Darkness. It surrounds me. Encases me. Suffocates me. I can't hold out for much longer.
Who was I with? Sam…? No. Michael…? Definitely not. So…Claire? Yes. She was shopping…with Adam…for a present. Christmas. It's December the eighteenth - The date I shall die. Funny how it's true. Your life truly does flash before your eyes. I can see into Claire's. She's hanging over me. The rain falls down upon my cheek. Rain? Can't be…it was clear skies. I know this because it's unusual. So is Claire…crying? That's not right. That's not what I wanted. I wanted for her to care, not shed tears.
What have I done? How could I be so selfish? I gave my life so willing and now…so many will be left behind. I'm sorry…I'm so very sorry. Mother. Father. Brother. Sister. Everyone.
I have to let her know. I have to tell Claire how I feel, once and for all. Her hand wraps around mine, while I feel the warmth of her cheek with the other. I croak so many times, hoping that she hears me. Her face indicates otherwise. She can't hear me; she won't. It will be too late…
And then…all changes. She looks down at me, her eyes lighting up. She seems dazed. It's not long before she says something back, and though I can not hear it, I can feel it. She feels the same.
That's enough for me. I can go now. I'm ready. Now and forever, I will there for her…until the end. After all, it doesn't take a genius to know that, at some point in our lives, we'll feel the warm, wonderful embrace of love.