Alice stared up at the midnight-blue sky. Grey clouds were suspended overhead, snowflakes tumbling down from them, and falling into Alice’s charcoal eyelashes. She batted them away as her head tilted back towards me. She studied my facial expression. She knew I was cold, and felt bad for dragging me all the way out here. The wind ripped through my clothes. I should’ve worn another layer. It was too late for that now. Alice looked at me with curiosity. She was wondering what I was thinking. I held out my hand, a gesture that secretly meant: let’s go. She smirked and went back to staring at the sky.
I was too shy to talk about it. I don’t like conflict, and I don’t like making Alice cry. I think she knew what I was going to say, and I think she knew what I was planning, somewhere inside. I guess she didn’t want to talk about it either, or didn’t want to acknowledge it. We were better off spending out last moments together not talking about it. We were happier that way. I wanted to leave her with good memories. She didn’t think I’d be gone forever, but I knew I would be. It was part of the plan. She was better off without a bum like me anyways. Between her and a better life, I was the only thing standing in the way. What I was doing was for her.
“I love snow.”
“I know you do, Alice…”
“Nothing. Just cold.”
At that moment, she grabbed my hand. We were going back to the car now. I should’ve kept my trap shut. I didn’t want to go home yet. I wanted to spend a few more moments with her. I have a habit of doing that kind of thing. I say things wrong and I ruin my own plans. I probably do that at least twice a day. I’m not very well-spoken.
I dropped Alice off, and headed home. I gave her a really good kiss goodbye. I hope it was good anyways, I’ve never asked anyone if I’m a satisfying kisser. To be honest, I don’t really want to know. Anyways, I headed home after that. That was the last time I saw her. Then I sat down and wrote this note, so she’d know that I loved her. When she came here tomorrow, this note is all she’d find. If you’re not Alice reading this, please take it to her. If you are Alice, know that I love you. This is just for the best.
Tears dripped from my eyes when I read that letter. What Charlie didn’t know is that I was keeping a secret from him. It was a surprise; I was going to tell him the next day. He’d walk into the house and see all of the stupid little things I bought for our child. Yeah, I was pregnant. Now Charlie had gone and killed himself. At least, I think that’s what happened. Charlie never said what exactly happened to him…
I was seventeen years old when I met Charlie. He was my first boyfriend. Ever since then I’ve gone from loser to loser, never getting attached, never finding anyone I could actually love. I owe my sad and lonely life to Charlie. After he left, I went into depression. I couldn’t go anywhere or do anything without thinking of him. We lived in a pretty small town. The only place we hadn’t been together was this crumby half-bar, half-motel that neither of us would ever go to. That’s where I take all of the other guys. That way I don’t cry or call them Charlie.
After a while I started drinking, even though I was pregnant. I lost the baby within three months. That tipped me over the edge. I started doing coke. It numbed the pain for a while. I already know I’m a horrible person… so don’t bother telling me. I think about it every day. I’m reminded of it when I see my face in the mirror. I’m twenty-six now. It’s amazing how much of my life I threw away.
I still spend every night crying. I have to shut myself up so the neighbors won’t come by and bash my head in. Just a few lines of dust do the trick. Then I’m sleeping like a baby… or distracted by the bugs crawling under my skin. Either way, I’m quiet.
The “boyfriend” I have now, his name is Jack. He’s my dealer. Every night I spend with him he has to wake me up because I’m crying in my sleep. Apparently, all I say is “Charlie” and “snow”. So he goes and gets me the white stuff, and coaxes me back to sleep. Yeah, he’s a real winner. I’m actually just glad he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. You see, “Charlie” and “snow” are nicknames for cocaine. He thinks I’m going through some kind of convulsion because I haven’t had drugs in a few hours. He can’t read me. He never will. He’s too doped up all of the time. He doesn’t call me by the right name when he’s sober, only when he’s jacked up. I’m either: Angela, Abigail, Amy, Alexis or Sandra for some reason. I have no idea where “Sandra” comes from. Ah, the mind of a drug addict. He’s barely ever sober though, so it doesn’t bother me much. I’m usually Alice.
Anyways, I’m writing this note because I’m going to kill myself tonight. My parent’s died in a car crash a week ago. I have no family left, Charlie isn’t going away or coming back, and I have no way to drag myself out of this hell hole. I don’t know who I’m writing this too, or why I’m even bothering… I guess I just hope somebody finds this… I hope somebody cares.
I know that people make mistakes in life. Some are for selfish reasons; some are for the greater good. I left because I wanted Alice to have a better life. I left to save her from a life with me. I wasn’t dead. I just packed up and left. I didn’t plan to come back. For some reason, I did. I came back moments too late. Alice died in my arms. I unfolded her tiny hands, and found her note and mine. She had kept it with her all of these years. I feel like Romeo. No… no I’m Juliet. I played dead, and Alice died to be with me. Now it’s my turn. I’ll be with her soon... We’ll have “happily ever after”.
Created: Jul 07, 2012KyraDelirium Document Media