The first time I saw you, you were lighting up the sky
Like bright flashing fireworks on the 4th of July
I won't forget and I don't regret
Losing my myself deep inside of your eyes
That night I'll remember for the rest of my life
It seemed like a dream but I'm wide-awake
And like the earth inside it made me shake
Like a summer fairytale, but it was real
A Way With Black.
I've never been to a funeral,
A stained glass window with,
A white dove,
a yellow sun,
A gold cross,
Standing proud and tall,
With a man ressurected to it.
I hate black.
I hate it.
I always have.
He asked me about it all the time.
"Gabi, why don't you like black?"
I just smiled.
"I like pink. It's bright and it suits me. Black is so depressing."
He looked over at me and smiled.
"You're so depressing."
He leaned over and kissed my lips.
I hate black.
Beyond the flowers,
beneath the cross,
I see a dark casket.
I see fiery,
My mom pulls my hand out of my mouth,
I have a habit of biting my nails.
She takes it into hers,
And gives it a tight squeeze.
I promised Troy I would stop chewing my nails.
But do you have to keep a promise to a dead person?
The music starts to play,
And my hand goes limp.
Mom holds it tight.
Troy's happy face begins to play across the screen.
It's not long before tears make their way into my eyes,
so I close them for a long minute.
I'm in his car,
Chris Daughtry is blasting through the speakers,
The windows are down,
Hair flying everywhere.
I kick off my flip flops,
Place my small feet ontop of the dashboard,
and slip my hand into his.
"Never leave me,"
I say to him.
"I won't. Not ever," he tells me.
Our lips meet for a brief second,
Like a simple kiss seals it.
I open my eyes,
They see the beautiful boy on the screen,
While my index finger returns to my mouth.
He didn't keep his promise.
I don't have to keep mine.
The minister speaks,
But I don't listen.
Floods into my mind every five seconds.
Of the reason my only,
Love is gone.
After the service,
We all stand in a line to pay our respects.
I'm one of the first people in line,
I want to get this over with.
His mom and dad are there,
And I try and say a simple sorry,
But the words don't come from my brain to my mouth,
They look at me,
And I feel their eyes pierce through me.
They try to smile,
They ask politely,
"Are you alright, Gabriella?"
I'm definetely not okay.
His mom hugs me.
A fake hug.
I hug everyone else who loved Troy the most.
His best friend,
I tell myself to be strong.
To be strong for them.
I sob into Zeke's black jacket.
He holds me,
Rubs the back of my dark hair,
"Shhh. You'll get through this. We all will."
I stand alone and wait for my mom,
so we can go.
It feels like everyone is looking at me.
What are they thinking?
there is Taylor,
Rushing over to squeeze me into her warm embrace,
Holding my hand,
Rubbing my back.
My circle of love.
Is better than a procession of sorrys.
Next is another service,
A line of cars driving to the cemetery.
A cemetary is a place for dead people.
Mom calls Dad on her cellphone.
They haven't spoken in a while,
But Papi know what I'm going through.
They both relaxed their tempers enough,
To have normal conversation,
And talk about me.
Dad's back in Mexico.
He offered to take a trip to Alberquerque,
I told him it'd be alright.
I have Mom,
And what did he ever help me get through anyways?
I hear Mom speak Spanish,
And I only understand a little.
"Wish you could be here..."
"Wanna talk to Gabriella?"
I wave my hand silently,
Telling her no.
There isn't anything to say.
There isn't anything I wanna talk about.
"She might be tired right now. Alot's been going on."
I lean my head against the cold window,
And listen to the pat of rain against it.
I close my eyes,
Drift back to happyland.
I came to East High in the Winter.
From a different school,
A completely different town.
I had met him on vacation before then though,
I didn't even know he lived in Alberquerque.
He was the boy,
That every girl wanted.
Dirty blonde hair,
Gorgeous blue eyes,
And skin sweeter than honey.
And he wanted me.
He spiced up my life.
When you meet someone completely different from you,
in a really awesome way,
that you don't even have to kiss to have the fireworks go off.
It's like fireworks in your heart,
All the time.
I mean we were completely opposite.
I grew up traveling around with my mom.
You'd think living in different places would be exciting,
That's why I read.
Books, Books galore.
All the time.
Troy live in Alberquerque all his life.
He didn't have to read anything to have excitement.
He went out and found it,
Creating it for himself.
The things I enjoy are really simple.
and watching movies.
Troy and I were good.
We were amazing.
A Word From The Author: If you like this, review, I will be more than happy to continue. Spur of the moment, this was rolling around in my head. Wouldn't leave me alone so I wrote.
What Inspired Me: My real life tragedy.