Young Writers Society

I sat on the couch in his bedroom, looking up to the clouds passing by through the sky-light window. They seemed to me moving so fast, just like these last few hours I had with him. Him being Mark, my best friend in the entire world, sort of. I had fancied him for two years. Two long and painful years, that was up until I got together with my boyfriend, then I stopped liking him, I thought. My boyfriend, at that moment, might as well have not existed. I was not thinking about him, even if I wanted to, Mark had captured my mind, filled it with thoughts of him that were physically hurting my heart. I heard him downstairs talking to his mother,

"She's crying!" He said.

"Go back up and see her!" She urged him.

"I don't know what to say!" He replied. I heard some mumbled words and as I heard him walking back up the stairs I turned me head from the door and wiped away a tear before it followed the path of the tears before it. I was at my worst, my hair was not straightened, I had no makeup on and I was wearing my school uniform apart from my jumper and tie. I had looked better.

He threw a pillow at me, we had been having a pillow fight before the water-works started and there were pillows strewn all over the room, obviously one had been at the door.

"Don't throw things at me!" I laughed, turning my head away from him. He sat next to me. He took his hand in mine and with the other one turned my head to face him. His big brown eyes looked deep into mine, his blonde hair gelled up as usual. His hands were so soft. We sat there in silence, just looking at each other until I couldn't stand it anymore. I tore my hand away from his and jerked my head before the tears flooded down my cheeks again.

"Ella, please-"

"This is so difficult, how can you just move hundreds of miles away and not even care?!" I pleaded.

"You honestly think I don't care? I thought you knew me better." He sounded disappointed.

The silence remained between us. No noise except for clanging of cups downstairs and the TV buzzing in the background. I was not looking at him. My heart already felt like it was tearing, I did not want it to be completely ripped in two. His hand was on my cheek, his soft, soothing hand, he turned my face slowly around to him. He wiped away a tear that had started making tracks down my face.

"Please-" He started to speak, if I didn't know him better I could have sworn that he was holding back tears. He sat up higher than me, still holding his palm against my cheek. He slowly lifted my head up to his. I knew what was coming. I closed my eyes. We kissed. It was one of those kisses you read about in story books or see in films, not like the normal ordinary kisses I'm used to. My heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to fly out of my chest. I wanted to stay like this with him forever. He stopped. I couldn't hold them back anymore, tears flooded like a river, I cried and cried.

"Why did you kiss me?" I managed to blurt out.

"Ella, Ella PLEASE-" He pleaded, "You're just making it worse!"

"Why?!"

"I-I-I Thought it would make you feel better." It was not the answer I wanted. I wiped my face,

"Goodbye." I stood up and collected my things.

"Ella!" He called out the door as I left. I didn't stop and I didn't look back and for all I knew, for all I know, I will never see him again. Inside my head I still tell myself that he did, he does, love me and didn't want to tell me just because it would make it hard for him. It's so hard losing someone you love. Especially when you know that they're still out there somewhere, thinking of some other girl when they could still be here with you, thinking of you.