WITH LOVE

Just an ordinary boy with his girlfriend? Think again.

He opened the doors and he was free. He had been stuck in that boiling classroom for too long as his teacher Ms. Crawne droned on about the homework they had to complete for Tuesday. He had never thought English class could be so boring.

            When the bell rang, he was the first out. As he ran to his locker, he felt as if he had left a part of himself behind because he had perspired so much in that boiler room. It was Friday, September 23, 2009.

            He opened up his locker and stuffed the binders he needed into his red knapsack. He reached up to close his locker door when it slammed shut. He turned around to see his girlfriend leaning against the pale blue door, smiling at him.

            “You ready to go?” she asked, locking the door, assuming he was ready.

            He nodded and wrapped his arm around her, as they headed down the hall. He kissed the top of her head, her hair smelt of roses. It reminded him of the task he had to perform.

            “So are you exited for tonight?”

            She twirled her reddish blonde hair, smiling her large smile.

            He nodded, he didn’t think he had ever seen her unhappy.

            As they walked down the hall, it seemed that all other sounds stopped, and all he could hear was the sound of his and her feet hitting the white tiled floor. He was thankful to leave the school behind, with its grey drooping walls and faded lights on the ceiling. This place was like a prison that kept trying to lock him in, as if trying to trap him from the outdoors. But with his arm around his girlfriend, he felt more powerful, as if nothing could block his way. He wasn’t even annoyed by the crowd of people hanging around in the halls, slapping each other high fives, and laughing. He smiled as he and his girlfriend passed them.

            As soon as he opened the large thick brown doors of the school, he was met with a gust of fresh air and freedom. His girlfriend must have felt it too, for as he leaned up against the archway, she kissed him delicately on the lips. She was still smiling, like a beaming sun casting her warmth upon him. He smiled too, how could he prevent so much warmth from entering his body? The sun beamed down upon them as if to show its affection.

            “I wish my parents had left sooner. Then you wouldn’t have waited so long to see my house.”

            He nodded, as he closed his eyes and took in the warmth of the scenery around him. He stayed there for two minutes, listening to birds chirping above and smelling the soft green grass, until the grey smoke hit his nostrils. That’s when his girlfriend punched him awake and he could see a girl on the sidewalk puffing away at the white stick that she held between her two fingers, a cigarette.

            His girlfriend, knowing his disgust towards the smoking device, offered her hand so they could leave immediately. He gladly took it and they walked across the grass, heading towards the sidewalk away from the smoker. There was a park right across from the school and he took her there.

            The grass smelt fresher here and was surrounded by a variety of beautiful deciduous trees that gleamed in the sunlight, the trunks giving off a warmish shadow upon the two people that stood in the middle of this beautiful serene scene. The sky was a perfect warm blue, as if it had been painted for this specific occasion. Many green bushes surrounded them because they had walked off the dirt path and into a more secured part of the greenery. There was a small grey fountain a few feet away, shooting water from its spout and some birds were already bathing themselves. He listened as the birds chirped and the water shot up and fell back down into the basin. There was a small bed of roses behind the fountain that gave off a smell as strong as his girlfriend’s hair.  He sat her down against an oak tree and kissed her cheek. He could have made love to her there.

            He stared deep into her apple green eyes and she took his hand, and placed it in her lap with hers. His brown eyes twinkled in the sun and she kissed them just to show how much she cared for him. He loved her.

            Her dress was a very warm green that really lit up the grass with life and her red glasses were almost the colour of red apples. She truly was the apple of his eye. They had been together for two years and he had always called her his “apple” because of the colours she wore. The only colours that didn’t stand out were her black and white All-star sneakers and even then he found that they still worked with the rest of her clothing. She never wore that much makeup, just a bit of pink lipstick but never overdone. She was beautiful without it.

            He was wearing more warm colours. A black cap was tipped down on top of his short brown hair and he wore a dark brown cardigan, with a blue T-shirt, and ripped jeans. His shoes were brown Doc Martins and they were size 13, he had really big feet. She only had on size 9.

            She removed his hand from her lap and lay down on the warm grass. He moved positions and lay down beside her. They held hands as they stared up at the sun and the Canada geese flying overhead. They laughed when they heard the honking birds. He closed his eyes and wished he could be in this moment forever. She kissed his cheek as if she heard his thoughts.

            They had been lying there for half an hour with their eyes closed when he sat up right and realized that he had completely forgotten about his task.

            “I’ll meet you at the house,” he said suddenly.

            She nodded as if still enraptured by the beauty.

            As he stood up, she did as well, and he didn’t understand what was happening until he was pushed up against the tree and her lips were on his. They made out very passionately, as if she was trying to give him a memory of what beauty would be awaiting him when he returned to see her. At that, they parted, and he went on his way.

            It wasn’t that he was trying to hide the secret from her, but he wanted it to be a surprise. He was heading towards the florist to pick up a dozen roses and then to the Chocolate Shop to pick up a heart shaped box of chocolates. It wasn’t Valentine’s or anything, but it was still a special occasion.

            He arrived at the florist, ordered the bright red roses, and was quickly on his way.

            The stop at the Chocolate Shop was a bit longer as there were so many varieties of chocolates to choose from. He also found it pretty surprising to find that he was the only person in the store.

            “We close up in about five minutes,” said the shop clerk.

            The man was wearing all blue and had Chocolate Shop written across the front of his T-shirt in brown calligraphy. He soon chose his assortment of chocolates and a shiny red heart box, and quickly paid. He was then ushered out of the store as if the building was about to explode and it wasn’t until the doors shut that he glanced at his watch and found the time to be 5:00 p.m.

            With the flowers wrapped and in his hand, and the box of chocolates stored in a blue and brown paper bag ringed with gold trim, he headed towards the subway station.

            It was located on Furlington Street just across from the Chocolate Shop.

            He descended the steps, deposited his token into the slot, went through the turnstile, and continued down the escalator towards the waiting trains below.

            Miraculously, the train was already sitting there with its red doors open inviting him inside, as if it had been waiting for him. As soon as he stepped inside and held onto the nearest silver pole, the doors shut, and the train drove off.

            It was the fastest train he had seen in Toronto in a long while.

            It took him only 10 minutes to get to his platform at Rosegarden, only three stops away.

            The doors quickly opened and he left the silver train as it drove off down the tracks.

            As soon as he was back in the open air of the city, he walked the four blocks to his girlfriend’s house and headed up to number 27 Sanguamore Road. It was a fairly small house with one green Ford minivan in the driveway and a large chocolate brown porch with four distinct steps leading up to it. He headed up the steps and then, once atop, made his way towards the white screen door, opened it, and knocked three times on the dark brown door. After about five minutes, he still heard no footsteps and the door had not been opened, so he turned the gold knob and found the door to be unlocked.

            He wondered if she hadn’t heard him arrive.

            “I’m here!” he cried through the house, hoping to get her attention.

            There was no answer.

            He wondered if she hadn’t arrived yet, but then saw her All-star shoes sitting on the grey mat up against the custard wall. He placed his own shoes on the mat and headed to the kitchen where he deposited his red bag on the light brown chair. He called again.

            “I know you’re here! You don’t need to play games!” He didn’t even hear a giggle.

            He searched the main floor so see if she was there. He looked in the living room, the kitchen, and the main room. He even checked the closets. Nothing.

            He headed down to the basement which was cluttered with many stacks of boxes�"he had always found that every basement always had stacks of boxes. It was only a small area with a washing machine and a dryer, and a few drying racks for clothes. She wasn’t there. He hoped, because of the dim lighting from the hanging bulb, that she’d jump out at him. But she didn’t.

            He went back up the stairs confused.

            He then proceeded up the grey carpeted stairs.

            “I know you’re up here!” he cried, hoping he’d get a response - but he didn’t.

            With the wrapped flowers and the bag of chocolates in his hand, he began to search the rooms. He started with the bathroom and then proceeded to the parents’ room, although he was sure she wouldn’t be there. She wasn’t. Then he saw a light coming from behind the white door at the end of the hall. He quickly proceeded.

            “Why would my apple hide from me,” he said, assuming this was the room.

            He opened the door and was shocked at what he saw.

            She was lying in a pool of her own blood with a long black knife sticking clumsily out of her chest. Her green dress was more red than green and her eyes was closed and her mouth was in the shape of a small smile as if she was now resting peacefully. He was horrified at what he saw and couldn’t understand the scene.

            Her hair that used to smell of roses was also caked in blood. Instead of smelling roses he was suffocating in the salty bitter air. The flowers and chocolates fell from his hand and hit the carpeted floor. He didn’t even hear them fall and did not see the wrapped roses roll towards his dead girlfriend. He noticed she was holding something in her right hand, and curiosity got the better of him, so he opened up her hand to find a scrunched piece of paper.

            It was stained with blood.

            He laid it flat on the white desk beside the body, hoping to find an explanation.

            He did.

            Beside the red smear stains of the page all was written was,

 

          With love,

 

  Heather

Reviews

[Aisha]

Wow, I loved the twist at the end. I was wondering what it would be throughout the story, but I hadn't expected her to commit suicide. I also liked how you never said her name until the very last note.
If I can just give you a suggestion... I think her suicide would mean more if you really got into how he was feeling when he found Heather. Or, if you didn't want to do that, you could add some flashbacks, so we really get a sense of who Heather is, and why she'd want to commit suicide. And with those flashbacks, you could cut out some of the description. Don't get me wrong, description is great, but I think it would have more of an impact if you focused more on the emotions of the boyfriend and girlfriend. Some parts I found just weren't so important as the point you were trying to get across.
Still, I really liked this story. Keep on writing. =)

[Andy Ruffett]

Thanks Aisha. I have posted your review on my work and I will look at the story again when I have time. Thanks for your feedback.

[Christina May Shanaberg]

At age eleven I found my grandmother dead, just months after the death of my grandfather. She had shot herself, in the forehead. If you haven't experienced this, too, you certainly describe it well!

[Andy Ruffett]

That must have been a tragedy. No, none of my grandparents have died from such a cause. I guess I just have a crazy imagination. Also, a bit sick clearly.