Concrete Angel

A Story by kayla<3

A dramatic short-story about a teenage boys' first love

The warm leaves fell across the lawn the summer I had met her. It was 1994, and I was only six years old when she and her parents moved in. They parked that dingy green pick up truck across the street from our house, and in an instant the family had my fleeting, childlike attention. I had been attempting to help my older brother rake the leaves, but as soon as her family made themselves known I lost all interest in that seasonal chore.

Slowly the whole family had gotten out of that truck. In my young eyes I felt as though I was watching clowns step out of a clown car; wondering to myself how all of them had fit in so neatly. First there was the mother, and then the father, and following them came two brothers and a puppy Dalmatian. Lastly, I caught the shining blonde of ribboned hair.

She stumbled out of the truck with all the clumsiness of a late toddler, wide-eyed and freckled. From across the street I watched in awe of this girl, knowing immediately that I would like to be her friend. By this time, my older brother had noticed I was no longer raking. Him being a teenager, he noticed my awestruck look at the girl and laughed.

"Kris gotta crush", he said.

I blushed immediately red, and felt embarrassed from the bottom of my toes all the way to the tips of my ears. "Nuh-uh", was all I said. I got back to raking, but snuck peeks at her family unloading boxes. Finally I caught her eye, and she smiled and waved. From tha6 point on, I knew that she would always be my friend.

By middle school in 2000 Ann and I were practically attached to the hip. She was constantly coming to my house and we would often study together or watch movies. Now I was almost a teen, and I thought I was in love with her. Ever since I had seen her that first day across the street I always got butterflies when we saw each other. She was my absolute best friend, and we talked about almost anything and everything. She was a year and a half younger than me, so most of her problems seemed trivial, but I always listened and gave her advice.

One day after school I waited by the North Gate of her elementary school to walk her home. It was our ritual, and had always been so since we met. I watched out for Ann when nobody else would.

I stood outside that gate an hour and half, watching the other elementary-aged kids trickle out. Every time I saw long blonde hair I thought it was Ann, only to be disappointed with somebody else. After two hours of sitting on the curb outside the school I began walking home. I planned on knocking on her door when I got home and demanding why she had kept me waiting, but by the time I got home I was exhausted and took a nap. By the time I woke up it was too late to go knocking on her door.

The next few weeks I didn't see Ann at all. When I knocked on the front door somebody else always answered and told me that she was grounded. I waited after school for her a few days, but it became obvious that she was either no longer going or her parents were now picking her up. Although she still lived across the street, it was as if she wasn't there. After a couple months of knocking every day I began to give up. My mother told me to leave Ann's family alone, and so I did. I always looked out my bedroom window at night though, hoping to get a glimpse of her wave or smile. It never happened, and I usually fell asleep staring off.

The next couple of years I hardly saw Ann. She began to go to my high school, but she wasn't the same. When I tried to talk to her she seemed standoffish and timid. She was no longer lively or talkative, and our relationship broke off. We had no classes together since we were in separate grades, and although she still lived across the street she was allowed no friends over. Eventually I subconsciously forgot about her. I found other girls to date and hang out with who were all the things Ann no longer was. I never thought to wonder what had changed. I never thought to ask.

In May of 2006 it was my senior year. By now I had a steady girlfriend, applications for universities, and a part-time job. My life was normal and steady, and Ann was no longer in it. I never really saw her in the halls, and she never attempted to regain our relationship back. I figured she had other friends, a boyfriend, etc; boy was I wrong.

May 24th was a Monday, and when I got to school everything seemed fine. I hung out with my friends, walked my girlfriend to class, basically the usual. When I got to my homeroom the announcements were said over the intercom.

"....Ann Will Copperton, our fellow junior student at our high school, took her life last night..." That was all I heard before my mind shut down. I looked around, astonished. Nobody else seemed to have known her, and most of my classmates didn't care. But she lived across my street. I left school immediately and ran home.

When I got there everything seemed the same, but as I looked at her house it seemed more sinister and lonely. I hadn't really looked at it in a while. I hadn't really even thought of her or her life in a while. I ran up to her front door, only to meet her fathers stare. I had never looked at him really before, but now I noticed his eyes were glassy and his appearance haggard. It didn't seem like a new thing, it seemed as if he had been falling apart without me knowing for years. I asked him what happened to Ann and he laughed and closed the door.

The rest of my senior year was met with many losses and stages of grieving. I pieced together from people who had been close with Ann before she died that her father was molesting her since she was eleven. She couldn't deal with it anymore, and she took her life.

I think back to standing outside that elementary school now, walking away, giving up on her, and I wish I could have seen everything in perspective. I wish I would have tried harder, talked to her and helped her. I wish I could have told her that she was always loved by me. There was no funeral, and I have no idea where she is buried. All I know is that she will always be my concrete angel.