Nerd's Words | A Short Story Collection

Guardian Angel

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

We were never supposed to go to that party.

We were never supposed to leave early.

You were never supposed to walk on that bridge.

"Micah, you have to let go. Otherwise, we'll both fall." That was the last thing you said to me before her fingers slipped through my shaking hands.

I remember your hands. They were so soft, and damp with rain that night. Your fingertips bright pink from the cold air around you as you slipped beneath the river surface below me. I should've grabbed them again.

I was supposed to hang on.

I was supposed to jump in after you.

I was supposed to save you.

But I didn't.

You were my purpose for living. You had brought light into my life when I had been in my darkest, and then, just like that, you were gone. All it took was one slip.

I stayed in my bedroom for about a week after that. Just lying around like I used to. It's not like I had anything better to do. School didn't matter to me, and my other friends never reached out to me. After that first time anyways. They thought a simple bowl of chili would make me feel better. But when it didn't, they just turned their backs on me.

"You have to get over it at one point," they said.

I don't think I could get over you if I tried.

At one point, I don't remember why, I went back to the bridge where it happened. The events replayed in my head as my hand followed the wavy brick fence.

You climbing on top of the fence to balance on top of it. Me jokingly warning you to get down.

That was probably the one time you should've listened to me.

I stared down into the river below thinking about you. "I wonder how it is up in Heaven," I muttered to myself. The thought of me jumping in came to mind, but I dismissed it. You wouldn't want me to do anything dumb like that, would you?

No, of course not. You were always about living life to its fullest.

You wouldn't have let my death stop your progress. I like to think it'd slow you down, sure, but you'd be pushing forward with all you had. You always were stronger than me in that way. But it was time for me to become stronger than you.

You encouraged me to start getting my life together. I poured all of my time into learning guitar, like you wanted me to. It wasn't easy by a long shot. Finding a good teacher was probably the hardest if I'm being honest.

When I first found the studio, the man at the front counter looked me up and down before asking, "What instrument do you play?"

Glancing over at the large wooden guitar mounted on the wall behind him, he understood without my words.

That said, even though he seemed wise, he was still pretty expensive. Seventy-five dollars an hour forced me to get a job at Mirian Eats, that medieval restaurant you liked so much. And that job came with its own complications.

The managers there were horrible. Namely Mr. Richie. He had it out for me, always assigning the most difficult customers to me while he lounged in the break room. It was always a nightmare when I was on a shift with him. There were many days I just wanted to quit and give up, but then I remembered what you had always said. "Suck it up, dummy." Cruel, but it was what I needed to hear. Every shift with Mr. Richie, I repeated it to myself. It was almost like an anchor to keep me from going crazy. And it worked.