What I Wouldn't Do For Love

Its a short story I wrote in my creative writing class. Its sad and apperantly i like killing my characters in dramatic ways. its still very rough, but i hope you enjoy it.

What I Wouldn’t Do for Love?

Most people would wonder why someone like me would have a gun pressed to their temple. I mean, who would have ever though that I, Pandora Lauffiete, would be crying over some picture of some guy. Most of those said people don’t even care. I guess that is part of the reason I’m writing this�"for all those people who don’t care, and for all those people who will still be mourning in nine months. The boy in the picture is my best friend, Keni; he was my soul mate, and I know what you’re thinking. No, he didn’t break my heart. No, he didn’t reject me. About a month ago Keni died under suspicious circumstances. The police said that the come cause of death was unknown or gang-related. Those suggestions didn’t even close. Keni was murdered.

Now, Keni and I go way back. We met in kindergarten in 1999. Our friendship started out as a total cliché. Those little kids you see sharing crayons�"yeah, that was us, and we had been friends ever since. Growing up with Keni was a blast. We hiked in the woods behind my house, made mud pies to prank my older sister, and simply played pretend. Our childhood was great, but it did have its bumps.

 I lived a normal life with my mom and dad, ever present and loving, and my older sister Sarah. We were the regular family that had vacations in the summer, and family night�"a dining room table family. Keni’s family was completely different. I know from experience, even though it was only once. I’ll never forget that summer. Keni and I were sitting in front of the TV, and I was kicking his butt at his own video game when his dad came home, hollering about some dumb blonde bimbo he had to work with. Keni turned everything off, and we ran up to his room and hid under his bed.

“Now, Pan, we have to be really, really quiet,” Keni whispered to me.

“Why?”

“So he doesn’t find us. Then we can escape.”

After we heard the TV blaring the local news and the shower going, we slunk out of the house and down to the grocery store on the corner. Her phone rang twice before she picked up.

“Hello?”

“Mom?”

“Pan?”

“Could you come to the Cornerstone Grocery and get me and Keni?”

“Why are you there?”

“We left Keni’s house; his dad came home.”

“And why did you leave?”

“His dad didn’t want us there.”

She sighed. “I’ll be there soon.”

The rest of that summer I didn’t step a foot into Keni’s house, but that didn’t stop us from being together. Honestly that never really bothered me much, especially when Keni started showing up with bruises in the 8^th grade. Freshman year his parents divorced. His mom, even though she loved him dearly, was struggling with a drug addiction. The courts wouldn’t let him stay with her, and Keni refused to live with his father. The courts deliberated, but that was when my parents stepped in as temporary guardians.

A month later, his father assaulted a coworker and was arrested. Keni was called to the stand as a character witness, and as his friend I was there to support him. Originally he hadn’t wanted me to come, but I was insistent on going. I found out all the horrible things that Keni’s father had done to him�"everything from beating to rape. The defense decided to press more charges against him based on Keni’s statement. His father was soon sentenced with life in prison.

It was after the trial Keni met his own demise. The defendant, Michael Smith, had three daughters, and the oldest was in our grade. Her name was Natalie Smith. She was a willowy girl with long, brown, Shirley Temple curls and big brown eyes. That little twig bloomed into a gorgeous rose, and where was I? Freshman year I was the sporty girl with tiny b***s, while my best friend and biggest crush was drooling over an over-tan, high school edition Barbie. I admit I had no chance being Keni’s girlfriend. Sophomore year I was the captain of the lacrosse team and the soccer team. Keni was still drooling over the over-tanned, high school edition Barbie doll, who was now the varsity cheer captain. Now it was junior year, and where was I? I was still captain of lacrosse and soccer, Keni was still drooling, and I still had barely any b***s to mention.

“Wow,” Keni said sitting down at our secluded lunch table, “Nat is smoking.”

Smoking as in sucking her boyfriend’s internal organs out through his mouth every time she took a drag of him? Yea, she was doing that. It was completely and utterly disgusting in my opinion.

“Keni, I still to this day have no clue what you see in that skinny, two-bit w***e.”

“Come on, Pan, can you not see that she is completely gorgeous?”

“Whatever, Keni.” I rolled my eyes. Pan is my nickname that Keni had given me in sixth grade when I was getting picked on by boys. They said I wasn’t tough enough to be a boy and not pretty enough to be a girl. Keni said my nickname would make me strong, and it did; but sometimes, I think Keni forgot I was a girl.

“Come on, Pan, I don’t mean to be biased.” He smiled up at me with that special kind of smile that makes you want to melt inside. “What would I do without you? Natalie’s hot, but you’re my best friend, and you’ll always be special.”

I smiled. Keni had his moments like most boys, and was a total sweetheart. I loved him for that.

“So, what did you think about that history test today?”

“I didn’t study at all. I’m so worried I’m going to fail history this year, Pan.”

“Hey, calm down, Keni. I’ll help you study. It’s not like history isn’t a completely foreign language to the rest of the school.”

“Good point. Thanks, Pan.”

“Any time. Hey, do you want to go out for coffee and practice lacrosse for a while after school?”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

“Great.”

“Pan, I can ask you anything right?”

“Yeah.”

“Anything at all, and you won’t get offended?”

I rolled my eyes. “Spit it out, Keni.”

“Ok. What do you think my chances are with Natalie?”

For the first time I absolutely hated Natalie Smith. “Keni, let the w***e go.”

“But�"”

“Keni, I’m speaking as the female that loves you like a brother. You’ve seen how many boys fall prey to her. They get their hearts broken, and their wallets emptied. It’s not worth getting hurt to see if you can get laid.”

He just kind of sat there for a moment. “Then, who do you think I should date?”

The question hit me like a ton of awkward bricks. I loved Keni. Loved him with all I had. I was saving my heart for him, and now I had a chance. But those god-awful butterflies clouded my judgment.

“I don’t know. Go out with anyone except Natalie Smith. Speak of the devil.”

No, seriously, I want to know if that works, considering that Natalie Smith decided that it was time for her to saunter over in a shirt that was cut to low and a skirt that was much too high for dress code.

“Hey, Panties. Hi, Keni.”

“Hello, walking STD,” I scowled.

“Pan, that’s not cool. Hi, Natalie.” Keni beamed.

“You’re a welcome face to see compared to a jockstrap.” Natalie growled.

“Well, at least my underwear isn’t trying to claim a chasm,” I stood up. I wasn’t going to let her win.

“Well, at least I have a boyfriend.”

“Well, at least I’m not being used as a free sperm bank.”

“Well, at least I have b***s.”

“Well, at least I’m not a gold-digging w***e who doesn’t know when to shut the hell up!” I shouted at her. I turned on my heels and stormed off. To my terrible misfortune someone spilt milk in my path. I slipped and knocked Tanner Corporal’s tray out of his hands. The outcome was covered with chili and salad. Natalie pounced on the opportunity to make me miserable.

“What’s wrong, Jockstrap? You look a little parched; let me fix that for you.”

 I fed Natalie’s fire, and she was thorough in pouring her vanilla latte all over me. Keni stood up, about to come to my rescue; the whole lunchroom was laughing at me. What does any girl do in this situation? Run. What else could I have done? I ran to the girls’ locker room.

I was crying in the last shower stall, when I heard someone come inside. A girl would have just let me be, a teacher would probably have let me be, but it was Keni coming to my rescue.

“Pan? Pandora?”

“What, Keni?”

“Are you okay?” he said opening the curtain.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bruised butt and ego.”

“Don’t let them get you down. And no crying.”

I smiled. “There is absolutely no one I dislike more than Natalie Smith.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“That is not a satisfactory answer.”

“Because she keeps me from who I want the most.”

“Kevin Jones?”

“No,” I giggled, “not a snowballs chance on the sun.”

“Then who?”

“Nah, you have to guess.”

“Oh, come on.”

I laughed, “It’s not hard. You know him really well.”

“Andy Black?”

“No.”

“Stephen Lophire?”

“Nope.”

“Heathcliff?”

More laughing. “No, and did you actually read that?”

“Yes. Yes, I did.”

“Keep guessing.”

“I don’t know, Pan! Who is it?”

“Do I have to get up like this and go kiss him?”

“If it will tell me who it is, then yes.”

“Okay then,” I smiled, “close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

“Fine.”

He closed his eyes, and I smiled in wonder. I slept in the same house as he did,  so I had forgotten how stunning he was. His hair was still that shaggy, mud brown, his face clean of blemishes and his lips so full. I kissed him, hoping that I wouldn’t have anything on my lips that would make him pull away. But that didn’t happen. Keni kissed me back. His lips were so soft against mine�"soft and warm, kind of like hot chocolate sliding down your throat. I never wanted to stop kissing him. He pushed me against the shower wall and turned on the shower. We would need to go home after this. He pulled away first and looked at me, his hair sticking to his face.

“Wow, Pan. I didn’t know you could kiss like that.”

“Neither did I.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

We went home to an empty house, and Keni was by my side the entire time. I love him, I told myself as he followed me to my room. I love him, I said when he took a shower with me. I love him, I said as he ran his hands over my body and told me I was beautiful. I love him, I told myself the day he asked me out. I love him, I screamed on our first day to the amusement park. I love him, I told everyone when he held my hand. I love him, when he left to chill with his friends. I love him, I told him that night when he went missing.

Three days went by with no news of Keni. It was horrible. I was worrying and crying, and worrying and crying, but then they found him and there was more crying. Keni was dead. Rescuers had found his body out in the woods just barely out of town. The investigation didn’t last long. They kept saying that he was attacked by an animal, considering he was covering in bites and claw marks. I never did see the body though.

Keni had a beautiful funeral. Everyone from school came: teachers, coaches, classmates; all of them had loved Keni. Even Natalie Smith had come, though I wished she wasn’t there. Around his coffin we put all kinds of exotic flowers, because he had always wanted to travel, his lacrosse stick, his baseball, and his favorite book Dante’s Inferno. To be honest I wanted to throw myself dramatically across his grave, but I couldn’t bring myself to do anything else than stand there and cry. I hadn’t just lost my boyfriend; I had lost my best friend, my practice buddy, my sparring partner, my soul mate. It was on that day that I had promised him I would find out what happened.

The next few weeks I asked around. I hunted for anything that would get me closer to Keni’s killer. Hell hath no fury compared to me. All of Keni’s friends from that night had said that Natalie had stopped by that night wanting to talk with him, and that he hadn’t come back afterwards. I went out to the woods where the caution tape had been and sat there looking intently at the spot the hikers had found Keni. What drove me nuts about this whole thing was that I didn’t know where to start.

“Keni, tell me who killed you.”

I don’t know why I had said it aloud, but as soon as I did I heard a high-pitched squeak. Upon further investigation, I found a small field mouse caught in a tangle of fishing line. The little thing was struggling like mad to get away. I couldn’t help it. I had to let him out.

“Hang on, little guy. I’ll get you out.”

After the creature was free, it was unharmed and scampered away. In my hand was bloodied fishing line, but the mouse had been unharmed. I took it in to the police lab to ask for a DNA match and, sure enough, it was Keni’s blood. Also in the tangled mess was a strand of spiral hair. I had my evidence. It was time for justice. My worst enemy had killed my boyfriend, and I was out for blood. Good-bye, Natalie Smith.

Tonight I went to Natalie’s house waiting. When her lights went out I crept up her rain gutter and slunk into her room completely invisible. I leapt onto her bed with leopard grace; my blade was pressed against her throat and my hand was over her mouth, stifling her scream.

“Why? Why did you kill him? He wasn’t yours to kill, you b***h.” I felt her smile under my hand, and I pushed the blade harder against her throat. I removed my hand so she could speak.

“So, you figured it out, Pan. I never thought you would. I guess I misjudged you. “

“But why? Why me? Why Keni?” I was crying now.

“Because you were happy.”

“That makes no sense. What did I ever do to you?”

“You had Keni. No matter what I did, you always had Keni.”

It shocked me though it probably shouldn’t have. I lifted my knife away and went to the window climbing out into the cool, spring air.

“Where are you going, Pan? I thought you were going to kill me.”

“I was, but now I think I’ll let you suffer until the day you die, since you can’t have Keni either.”

No more was said as I hopped off the roof and walked home. Now here I sit the barrel against my temple, praying that I find him somewhere. Keni, I’m coming. I just thought you would all want to know what really happened to the girl in love with her best friend.

Love,

Pandora Lauffiete