Going Through Hell

It’s a work in progress. There’s still much to do and many things to correct. I’ll keep working on it as hard as it may be. 

From the moment I met him, there was a connection. A strong connection. Pretty strong words for a couple of six-year olds. But, it’s true. I was shy and I liked my time alone. I laid there on the floor, coloring when Derek, the brattiest kid in our class laughed so loud most of the class heard him. I remember him saying he could see my “boobies.” May not seem like much, but when you’re six, it’s traumatizing. When tears were filling my eyes, I grabbed my coloring book and crayons to rush off to another corner where I could be alone. He was there. Landon was there. He marched right up to Derek, knocking him right on his butt. Not that I condone pushing in any way, but when Landon yelled, “leave her alone!” My heart melted. I remember Derek had rushed off to another part of the play area and Landon bent over helping me clean up my rainbow mess of crayons. It was at that point, we were inseparable.
Now suddenly, things were different. Too different. It took me years to get over him eating my blue play-doh. It was after all, my favorite color. This. I knew I would never get over this. Not now. Not ten weeks from now. Not even ten years from now. Landon was gone. Gone. I hated that word. I hated how it made me feel. I hated how permanent it was. He was gone. Taken from me, his mom, our life. What happened to our plans? He promised me that he would take me out for my eighteenth birthday. He promised he would take me to senior prom because my boyfriend was such a dirt bag. He promised. He promised! Landon never broke promises. Never. And, now, Landon O’Neill was gone. Gone because someone had chosen to drink and drive. I had to suffer because someone made the wrong choice.
My chest hurt and my eyes ached from hours of tears. It was pouring outside but yet it didn’t stop me from sitting outside in it. Under our tree. Our special spot. My hair was dripping wet and matted to my head. My eyes stung, though I didn’t know if it was from my tears or my eye liner running now. My clothes clung tightly to me and the cold rain was enough to chill me to the bone. But, I didn’t do anything about it, and I wouldn’t. I didn’t care. I sat, with my knees up to my chest and stared into space. A mix of raindrops and tears soaked my face. Before everything was hurting, now I was beginning to feel numb. I felt lost. The words Landon and funeral didn’t belong in the same sentence. Not now. It was way too soon. It made me feel sick to my stomach.

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