Young Writers Society

The ring hit the bottom of the garbage can with a clunk. I stared at the band of white on my finger where the ring had just been, twenty seconds ago. It had been perfect. It fit me perfectly the first time I tried it on. The man who gave it to me had once been even more perfect.

I gazed up at the cloudy sky. The moon was full, and everything around me seemed a little too quiet for Manhattan. The silence scared me. I wasn’t in the best neighborhood, and I had just dropped a fifteen hundred dollar ring in a trash can. So I hurried on as I adjusted the strap of my shoulder bag, and re-tied the belt of my coat. Relief coursed through me after I opened the door of my car, got in, and locked the doors.

While I drove away, I couldn’t help but feel a familiar pull to the ring I had just abandoned in the trash can. It had been sitting on my finger for almost 2 years now. After Mike had given it to me, I never took it off. When I was nervous; I had had this habit of twisting it around my finger. Now I had nothing to be comforted by, and the most important person in my life had vanished. I needed to let go of him.

Regardless, Mike hadn’t done anything wrong. It would be pointless to stay mad at him. I turned the car around and headed back to the neighborhood. After retrieving the ring, I slipped it into my purse.

I finally went home, and took a long hot bath. Something felt odd and out of place. I looked at the mirror. Ordinarily, Mike would be there, shaving. I usually showered in the morning, and Mike showered at night. It felt wrong to change up the routine. So I hurriedly got out of the warm water, and wrapped my favorite fluffy towel around my body.

...................................................................................................................................................................

After I awoke the next morning; I noticed my eyes were puffy and swollen, and my voice was hoarse. I had probably been crying and screaming into the night for Mike. I had a big day ahead of me. I put on a simple black dress, nylons, and black shoes. My hair was arranged in a ponytail, and I wore no makeup. My purse was the only thing I picked up as I walked out the door.

I parked outside of a familiar building. My hands rested on the steering wheel while I took 5 deep breaths. I couldn’t take it anymore, grief overcame me as I sobbed into the steering wheel. I was grateful I hadn’t put on any makeup earlier. By this time, it would have been running down my face like long ugly gashes.

After I composed myself, I walked into the building. It was a church, and there were two long rows of pews on either side of a wide aisle. I almost tripped over my shoes as I sat down in the front pew. I absentmindedly took the ring from my purse and put it on. I owed it to him to wear it for one last day.

His casket was open, and the minister of the church began reading passages from the bible about leaving loved ones left behind. Why did Mike have to leave me behind?

“Olivia, would you like to say a few words to honor Mike?” I nodded, and stood shakily. I needed him to know that I still loved him no matter what.

“Mike, you were my best friend in middle school and high school. In two weeks, we would’ve been husband and wife.” I paused as his mother dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, and his father tried to look strong. “I will always love you. You were always a part of my life, and you always will be. You were my first love. You may not be my last love, but I will never let myself forget all the good times we had.”

I moved toward Mike's casket. He looked calm and serene. His brown eyes were closed, and the corners of his lips showed the ghost of a smile. His hands were arranged on his stomach so he would look peaceful and relaxed. I took off the ring. The minister didn’t object as I moved his cold hand, and slipped the ring under it. Tears ran down my cheeks as I squeezed my eyes shut, and family and friends slowly moved up to join me to pay their respects. Slowly, everything blurred and faded until...

I sat up with a gasp. My bedroom was dark, and I was sweating. I felt a hand on my shoulder. The bedside lamp was turned on as I twisted my ring around my finger. Mike looked at me with his warm, brown eyes.

“Liv, is everything alright?” He asked. I nodded and tried to smile.

“It is now.”