one shot

A Story by Addie Santos

Four days has past, and there they both stood amongst untouched high conifers and virgin oaks with a rather delicate gaze attached on their faces instead of wonder, instead of amazement. Both blessed with sable hair, the one with longer, unwavering mane leaned beside the body of a maple tree, her two arms under her chest contemplating the view that made her recognised herself. Somehow, she didn't find herself this time. She knew the reason though, because she will always be lost without him. The one with shorter hair but takes messy hair to a whole new level has herself perched down on top of two rocks, trying to figure out what the world has in store if she lost him. The answer came to her just the moment the sun's rays were losing touch with the ground; she will see woes growing out of leaves, she will see blood everywhere, she will learn what does it mean to be unloved. The girls were immoral, so immoral for thinking about love when both were enclosed with the world's last treasures. Any beauty showed to them by the universe itself was not enough for their satisfaction to be fulfilled. They were both artists, one was a painter while the other one was a writer. When their thoughts clashed, boy, was it equally fantastic and destructive. They both stood in those very positions, not an extra movement made. If blinking and breathing weren't required by the body, Alaska would have controlled it. Her best friend was two meters away from her, still as a statue, her face blank as typewriting paper and she knew what she was asking herself: would he take her back?

Alaska stood up and readjusted the strap oh her backpack. "Hey, come on. It's almost pitch dark. We have to set up the tent."

Alaska had to repeat the first phrase one time more to her friend, who just nodded over-excitedly and followed her friend they hiked below the other side of the mountain. They finally saw an open space, a perfect spot for spending a night as they noticed it had complete materials: four logs enclosing a burnt open fire with stones surrounding it, a net for the food and on top of all that, it was clean. There were no scattered leaves neither the waste of animals who live in the forest.

Vannavee lingered around the camping site, poking her hiking stick to the bushes encircling the site. "Do you think they left this on purpose?"

"Probably." Alaska put down her backpack and demanded something else from her, she needed something to forget him. Even for just a moment. Even for just a second. She wanted him out of her mind. It didn't help though that her cerebrum would reborn thought after a thought, then the thousands of memories and words said and music played and his laugh would ring upon her ears and his smile would be imprinted on her eyes. That special smile he only gave her, when the night was dying and she thought a life would him would be the easiest thing ever. With a hip cocked she told her friend, "How many bottles of wine did you bring?"

"Enough for us to cry and to get drunk." Vannavee replied, like crying and getting drunk were two of the greatest things in the world.

By eight o'clock in the evening, their tent was settled on a safe spot, they finished their 'dinner', also known as loaves of bread and pastas in topperwares as they reheat the cold food in a metal pan over a two-foot fire, laughing as they both finally had taken a bath after three days. The man over the counter in the equipment store below told them there was a lake where they could bathe where two mountains were intersecting, and between the mountains they could find the fresh lake there, the first time they both arrived in this place. The fire danced beneath the rustle of the winds, and Vannavee's eyes gazed on it's graceful tips.

"Evan asked me to marry him."

It was Alaska's turn to take a gulp of red wine, but she indeed choked on it as she heard the words. "He did what?"

Vannavee turned to face her, completely taken aback by her reaction. "Why do you look so surprised?"

"I'm not." She raised both her palms as a surrender as she extends the bottle of wine to her.

"Alaska. Stop laughing."

"I'm not." Alaska shot back, but with a toothy grin on her face.

Vannavee levelled her browns on Alaska's browns, completely serious. "Alaska."

"Fine!" Alaska said with her tone higher than normal. She struggled for words as she carefully picked each one. "It's not that I'm not happy for you, because I am but it's funny.. It's just that.. We always talked about who would marry first - let me finish - and we thought it would be me - but here you are, twenty-five and the love of your life just asked you to marry him. To spend his life with him."

Then Alaska's tone dramatically turned solemn. "So, why did you say no?"

Vannavee inhaled a deep breath as she gulps on red wine. She remembered thoroughly that Alaska didn't drink ale or any other type of alcohol so she settled on the suffering choice of squeezing three bottles of red wine on her backpack. Alaska knew her better than anyone else. "I didn't say no, Alaska. I said I'll think about it."

"Jesus Christ, Vannavee." Alaska cussed, ready to hit her with either the pan or the bottle of wine. But she did the most immature thing they've always done - she slapped her hard on the forearm. "It's Joshua! Your man. He wants to spend the rest of his life with you. The one you've always loved. Why the f**k would you say that?"

"I'm sure I love him. That won't change. But we're both young, and when you're young, you tend to make mistakes.." Vannavee sighed. "He will leave me for sure. He will."