This is the 3rd short story I've ever wrote so any advice for a super novice writer would be awesome. Also I'm very self conscience about my writing so this is hard for me (I'm not saying that for self pity) Enjoy.
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The Drug of Happiness
I’m killing myself. I’m surely but slowly killing myself. She doesn’t want to be anything more than friends. And yet, I cant stop.
My name is Dan Whitfield, and I’m in love with Christina Hartley. The girl who __________
It started with a simple introduction about 1 year ago,
“hi, my names Christina”
“uh, hi” “ I’m sorry my names Dan”
I remember being so speechless that I forgot my name. She was so beautiful it seemed that she had an invisible aura of some sort around her. I felt physically frozen by this aura, but emotionally my heart was going a mile a minute. Our school had a mandatory uniform, but that didn’t stop her from standing out. The day she spoke to me , she had a red headband across her forehead. Her wrist was full of charms and bracelets that constantly became a conversation starter everywhere she went. Her neck was full of homemade jewelry her and her mother made that seemed to shine like diamonds. Her skirt was tastefully high which was complemented by knee high socks what matched her makeup. I wanted to get to know her better, so I talked to her more and more everyday.
The more I talked to her, the easier it got. My heart wouldn’t beat as much. The pitch in my voice stayed the same. I became more and more comfortable. For the first 6 months I knew her, she had a boyfriend, and I respected that. For a while I thought that she would stay with that guy forever.
Until one day…they broke up. Simple as that. When I found out I was ecstatic. Her having a boyfriend was the only thing holding me back. Or so I thought.
Two months past since then and our relationship didn’t change. She paid no more attention to me then she used to. Granted we talked a little more, but it always seemed I was the one pushing for conversation. She always seemed uninterested. It felt like she was doing me a favor by talking to me, like she was being nice. So I decided to back off for a bit
After about a week I gave up on the whole “backing off” thing. I texted her a simple hi. I wanted to tell her that I couldn’t stop thinking of her and that I think I love her, but all that came out was a simple hi. She texted back the clique response one would expect but I still waited by my phone for seconds that felt like hours hoping for the response I longed for. A response that said “OMG hi it feels like we haven’t spoken in forever.”
During the summer we talked less. It wasn’t until August that she texted me. She wanted to know what classes I’m taking the coming school year. I somehow convinced her to see a movie with me. After the movie, she told me she had to go meet her boyfriend. To say that I was devastated would be an understatement. I was depressed until the first day of school, until I saw her. I instantly fell back in love with her again. She was like a drug. I was addicted to her and every dose I took left me wanting more. I didn’t care that she was slowly killing me because in my eyes, It was worth it.
The first month of school was….interesting. Two girls I talked to frequently over the summer asked me out. Not to sound like an egotistical douche or anything but I said no. Im pretty sure you can guess why. It might sound stupid to some people, but to me it made perfect sense. I couldn’t see myself with any other girl. Everyday she gave me new reasons to be in love with her. Monday she got a new haircut, Tuesday we talked about my favorite movies, Wednesday I noticed her deep brown eyes that got me lost for minutes that felt like hours, Thursday she wore this French vanilla perfume that left me dazed and confused, and Friday she didn’t do anything, She was just being herself, which was more than enough for me to love her.
It was November 15th when she asked me to come to her house to see a movie. It was a Sunday morning when I got the text. I felt like the happiest person alive. As soon as she told me I ran in my closet to find something to wear. Nothing seemed good enough. I went through 10 different shirts before deciding on a red v-neck. I ran into the shower then shaved. I never shave unless it was a special occasion. I used extra deodorant and stole some of my dads cologne . I remember thinking the train ride there was the longest ride in the world. When I got to her house, it took me 3 minutes to knock on the door. I was a nervous wreck.. When she answered the door she was still in her pajamas. “Come in, make yourself at home” she said as she walked toward her living room. Her parents were away on business and Christina was alone since Friday.
“Look at me I look a mess, I’ll be right back ima go change”
“Uh you look great Christina” I said. “I don’t mind that your in your p.j’s”
She was already in her bedroom by the time I said great. 4 minutes later she came out with a Jonas brothers t-shirt and jeans.
“that’s better” she said as she walked comfortably into her kitchen. “you want some popcorn?”
“Yea that sounds fine, what movie are we watching ?” I replied.
“The NOTEBOOK !!!” “HAHAHAHA just kidding” she said laughing.
“Hahaha I actually like that movie ya know” I also said laughing.
“Really, most guys run like hell when I mention it” she said as she put the hot popcorn on the coffee table. “Ok I’ll pick a movie then you pick a movie, how’s that ?”
“Fine with me” I replied. “Here I brought fight club over to watch anyways, so I guess that’s my pick.”
“Oh I LOVE fight club!” “ Lets watch that first.” she said eagerly.
During the movie she sat across the couch with her feet laying toward me. Every inch of my body wanted to get closer to her and kiss her, but I was afraid of how she would react. Every time I ran the scenario in my head it ended with her pushing me away, calling me an ugly loser and kicking me out of her house. So instead I just sat there, slowly killing myself, injecting myself with my own personal drug called Christina Hartley. The drug that made me happy, but would end up being the cause of my depression later on. Like any drug addict though I didn’t think about the after affects. All I cared about was the happiness it brought me. A happiness that nothing else can fill. When I was with Christina I didn’t care what time I got home, I didn’t care about her boyfriend, I didn’t care about anything. All I cared about was her. After 4 hours of watching movies, I told Christina I had to go. She then said “ok, I had fun today”
“Me to” I said as I was heading toward the door. “we should do this again sometime”
“yea that sounds cool” she replied. “Bye” she said.
“bye” I replied as I slowly walked out the door.
For the next 4 days all I can think about was Sunday. Christina and I never spoke about It
though. I started to think she didn’t have as good as a time I did.
It was Saturday December 5th when I heard. I couldn’t believe it. I was shock. My chest got tight, I couldn’t breath. I had to sit down. I felt like crying and screaming at the same time. Christina got hit by a car on Friday night. She died Saturday morning. She was gone. It didn’t really hit me until that night when I was trying to go to sleep. All I could think about was Christina. I cried that night, and every night since then for about a week. I felt like shit. I couldn’t get over it. All I could think about was that she never knew how I felt. I was to much of a pussy to tell her and now she’s gone. I felt like a crack addict who woke up in a world without crack. No matter how many other drugs I took, nothing would give me the happiness that Christina gave me. Nothing would give me the same high that I felt. Nothing could ever fill the hole that Christina left when she died.
They say the best way to get over something is to turn it into literature. If that’s true then by the time I finish this next sentence I should be able to love again.
My name is Dan Whitfield, and I’m in love with Christina Hartley, The girl who stole my heart and died with it.
