Tell Me Why
We stood there. Together. In another one of those moments which no one wanted to go through.
"We can't be together." she whispered.
"Why not? I--"
"We've been living in a lie. We can't do this." She slipped off the necklace and put it in his hand. "Goodbye, Nicholas." They stood there, staring into each other's eyes. It started to pour. Small tears fell down her cheeks. But the rain always covered her sorrow. She walked off into the forest as a tear slipped from his eye.
I punched the wall in anger as I looked through the window. These memories brewed up in my mind. Everyday. Over and over again. How could I let her slip from right under my nose?
"Nicholas! Come downstairs!"
He closed his eyes as the pain in his heart increased. He went down the stairs to see his mom cooking fish.
"Mom." He tried to calm down a little and forget about the girl he once loved. "It's Nick. Don't call me Nicholas anymore. I liked it when I was eighteen. I told you, I'm 23 now ma. Forget it."
"Sorry. I forgot. But your fath--." She stopped dead in her tracks realizing what she was about to say.
"Ma?" He gently took her hand as she stared at nothing.
"Never mind." She quickly said.
He lost it. "Look, Ma. I never want to hear the word father. Or dad. Or his name said. I am the man of this house now."
"Ma, he left you. He hurt you. And no man will ever be able to do that to the woman I love the most in my life." He stormed out of the kitchen. "Her" thoughts coming back to his mind. He sat onto the couch. In anger.
"That pitiful little--" He started to say. His mother came charging in throwing the towel in her hand onto the floor.
"Nicholas! Don't you dare insult your father."
"Nicholas. How could you do this? Without him, you wouldn't even be here." Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked him.
"He left me at the time I needed him the most. He left you in pain for 2 years. I needed him to arrange everything with her. But he refused his own flesh and blood. And I could never forgive him."
His mother stood there. Not knowing what to say to her heartbroken son. He was right. But she knew the truth. He loved his father very much.
But he loved no one more than "her".
Now who's "her" you ask? Let's take a trip to "her" small village home in Paris. Shall we?
"Hope! Get down here!"
Her scream of the day. She lived in a hellhole. Paris? Fancy city, huh? Yes. Very. But not for young Hope. She is 20 years old now. Living in a home with her sister. She wasn't allowed to go out, watch tv, or even sign onto a computer since the year she turned fifteen.
"What is it, Maria?" she asked standing about a foot away from her.
"Polish my shoes. Both closets ,please." she grinned at her.
"Maria, I did that two days ago! They can't be ruined already."
"Well, they are. Sorry to disappoint. And mum wants me home. I'll be back to see if those shoes look outstanding in about two hours." She walked out the door as her beautiful self. Maria was naturally pretty. And she was a wretched girl with no life.
She started with her upstairs closet. When she saw Maria's boyfriend's shirt crinkled on her bed, she couldn't breathe as tears swelled in her eyes.
She ran to her small room across the hall. And dug through the silver shoebox hidden underneath a pile of other shoeboxes.
She rapidly threw off the lid, throwing around objects until she found what she was looking for.
She slowly traced her fingers over his perfect aligned face in the photograph.
"I'm sorry, Nicholas. We could never be." A tear slipped from her eye onto his cheek. And she sat on the floor, caressing it as if it were her only life.