Disclaimers: This is my original fic! All characters are mine, etc. This is just a piece I did for my Composition 1 class. Constructive criticism, tips, suggestions, or comments are welcome.


            I sat alone, on a rock beside a stream. Clear water trickled down, splashing from the nearby waterfall, into the stream, which sang to me. It skipped over stones and pebbles along the way; pebbles that shone with the light of the sun on them, in numerous colors of dark gray, blue, and even a few white ones.

            Rowan, ash, and dark hemlock trees stuck together in clusters, surrounding me with their dark branches, and multi-colored red, green, and yellow leaves. They carelessly drifted to the ground, seemingly defying the wind that plucked at strands of my hair.

            My bright red hair, which looked crimson in light; a deep blood red, cascaded down my shoulders, onto the white, soft, long-sleeved shirt I wore. For once, I wore my hair in a high ponytail, and the end of it just brushed my mid-back. My skin was pale, showing clearly against the stark contrast of my hair, and illuminating my sapphire eyes.

            I shifted position, in my black jeans with my blue-colored jogging shoes on my feet. The rock I sat on was jagged, with deep crevasses carved into it from time, like the crevasses within my heart. Hollow places, which had once been filled by love… happiness. By belonging to another, who I loved.

            I supposed I was a fool for not realizing what he had been doing before now. My friends had told me that I was naïve not to realize that he had another girlfriend, and that he truly did not love me. I thought myself ignorant for believing that he had loved me and not her, but I was not going to dwell on it too much. He had made his decision; I was certain of that.

            So why had he asked me to meet him here, when he knew that I had learned the truth? I knew that he had been unfaithful to me from the very beginning, and that hurt… It truly did. The pain in my heart was worse than that of having stitches done, of mending a broken bone, or any other physical pain. That pain is easy; you know how long it will take to heal the wound and relieve the pain; there are painkillers for that, to numb it away.

            But what could be used to heal a broken heart? I could only look to time itself to heal that pain for me. I was not so selfish as to wish ill on him; in fact, I wished him well. Though it would make me grieve to lose him, I would not hold onto him, if he did not love me. Love is precious, especially the love one should feel for their other. Who was I to break that apart, when love is typically that which is all that can be depended on in this world?  His love for me was not dependable, but that was a rare instance.

            So I wait for him to arrive now, wondering what, exactly, he will say. I already know that he is with another, so that will not come as a surprise. I feel like crying, but I know it would do no good; I will not cling to him and beg him not to leave me. I have my pride, though part of me wants to plead for him to stay. The other part of me says that even if he did stay, I could no longer trust him; he had betrayed me once, and I was not stupid enough to fall for it again.

            What should I do? If he lies and begs for forgiveness, should I take him back, knowing that he might betray me once more? Should I reject him, reminding him that he was unfaithful to me, and therefore, I could not believe him anymore? Lies… I did not want to hear any more lies from him; I merely wanted the truth, so I could move on with my life. I'm only a seventeen-year-old junior in High School; I can survive this, no matter which path I choose.

            As if summoned by my thoughts, I hear him approaching. I know that it's him, because of the way he always shuffles his feet when he's nervous. The leaves are crackling slightly beneath his feet, as he draws closer, and I turn to face him, prepared for whatever he might say to me. Words that are truthful, or ones that are false. Whatever he says may help me decide what I should do.

            "Eileen, I'm sorry," he whispers, before kneeling in the soft, green grass in front of my rock. He is as handsome to me as always, with his dark blond hair, fancy blue sweater, and dark khakis. His skin was tan, almost bronze, darkened by the sun from his recent trip to Mexico.

            I look at him wordlessly, before I speak. "Then why did you do it? Why didn't you just tell me the truth?"

            He has the decency to look ashamed. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear." He reaches out and takes my hands in his own smooth ones, with no calluses on them. My hands show how hard my life has been; they are rough from work and my chores.

            "But you did," I whisper quietly, my voice fragile and soft. It doesn't shake at all; it is quiet and sad, and lonely.

            "Please… Give me another chance, Eileen. I love you; I never loved her." Emerald green eyes bore into my azure ones pleadingly. "I swear that I'll never hurt you again."

            This was something I had not expected, as I silently stared at him. Him… begging for forgiveness? He never begged for anything; at least, he had not during the entire year that we'd supposedly been dating. So I was surprised, and maybe even a little glad. But I knew what I had to do; what my heart was telling me to do.

            I softly told him, "Jeremy, it's too late for that. Even if we did start over, there would always be a doubt in my mind of your faithfulness to me. Let me go and find someone else."

            Jeremy froze and looked at me, shock in his green eyes, which were wide in surprise. His mouth was hanging open slightly, telling me without words that he had not anticipated this. Without saying a thing, he released my hands and walked away, with his head bowed towards the ground.

            I watched him walk away, until he was out of sight, before I sighed, letting out a deep breath that I had not even known that I been holding since he came. That had hurt, but it was the truth, and that was one thing I prided myself on: always telling the truth. I turned back to the waterfall and listened to its wordless song again, closing my eyes. The bubbling of water soothed me, relaxing me without touching me at all.

            And I sat there alone, again.

The End