(Send praise, death threats & marriage proposals)

We had only been going out for a couple of months, but we really liked each other.

I was 14, she was 13½. We had the best time together. Not just making out. We really liked each other.

We would talk for hours on the phone, not phone sex or anything like that. But we would talk about anything. We felt like we could tell each other anything. I told her all my secrets, and she told me all of hers... or did she?

She would always talk about getting married one day. And that would bother most guys, but not me.

Because I knew it was true. We are going to get married when we get older. There is no one else I can picture me spending the rest of my life with. She is the ONE. She is my soul mate. And I loved her more than anything. Most adults would laugh if they heard me say that. But its true. Just because we’re young, it doesn’t mean we don’t know what love is. We have hearts, and we know how to use them.

We never talked about sex or anything. We made out. But I never touched her anywhere.

I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable.

I always loved seeing her. And it would often be at her house.

But the one thing I hated about being there was her stepfather.

He was a drunk. I have never seen him sober.

He would always be sitting in front of the television, a beer in one hand, and the remote in the other.

He has never liked me. If I said he hated me. It would be an understatement.

We got into a fight once. Not a fistfight or anything. But we yelled at each other.

He slapped Kimberley in the face one time.

The reason...

She walked in front of the television.

He eventually kicked me out. And told me to never come back.

But he was so drunk, he can’t remember it. So I go into the house as often as I want.

I loved stroking my fingers through her straight blonde hair.

She would just sit together for hours.

Sometimes, not even saying a word. We didn’t need to say anything.

Our favourite place to hang out was down at the lake.

Right on the bank. We would lay there, and look at the clouds.

We would say what we thought they looked like.

And we always had the same idea.

I loved holding her hand.

I wish it would stay like this forever.

Sitting on the riverbank, with not a problem in the world.

If only that could be.

It was nine o’clock at night when I got a call from someone.

I wasn’t in bed or anything. But I was tired.

It was a ladies voice. She sounded like she was worried.

I asked who she was, maybe she had the wrong number.

"I am Nurse Roberta, at Flinders Medical Centre. Are you Jeremy Scott?" She said

Well, she couldn’t have the wrong number, knew my name.

So I asked her what she wanted. Why is the hospital ringing me at Nine o’clock?

She replied with this, "We have a patient named Kimberley Winslet, she asked us to call you."

"Why is she in the hospital? Is she ok?" I asked.

She replied with...