Yearbook

This story is not just another one-shot I loved writing, but a dream of mine. I've always loved Hanson, ever since before they went indie. And this song, "Yearbook" (from the first album, "Middle of Nowhere"), called my attention in special. I thought it had been because of the melody, since the lyrics only hold meaning for the three Hansons.

However, I was aware I would do something with this song someday, and nothing makes me happier than dedicating this supposed songfic to the person I love most in the world, Joseph Carey Merrick, here using the pseudonym given by Dr. Treves.

There are parts with words from the original song.

I used Joseph Drake, one of Joseph Merrick's cutest renditions, to represent John's ghost. He was on the BBC series, Ripper Street.

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Saoirse was drawing patterns on her notebook while waiting for the bell which would announce the summer vacations.

Not that she was excited about the vacations. Not this time.

Not with John leaving school, the city and the planet without saying good-bye.

It wasn't a secret they had formed a fragile friendship, never having a chance (or working up the courage) to get to know each other better. But the jocks and cheerleaders never respected him, and that was enough to become a pariah in highschool. They didn't respect her either, most of the times. She was just lucky Todd Williams, the jocks 'leader', had a crush on her. Aside from that, Saoirse wasn't exactly loved. She didn't know if it was because of her freckles or her most of the time untamed, flaming red hair.

But John seemed to like her hair. He seemed to like everything about her, he was always acting as if mesmerized, whenever he stared at her. It was unnerving, but for the wrong reasons: Saoirse felt uncomfortable with being ogled like she was some goddess. Adding the fact she couldn't get used to his face, it could certainly get awkward.

Perhaps that's why he left without saying good-bye.

And there it goes. John Merrick's yearbook photo said only 'picture unavailable'.

How ironic.

Finally, the bell chimed. Saoirse had great options for a great summer ahead of her.

But there was no John. Somehow, each and every prospect looked bleak. She'd never get to know him better.

"Hey!" cried a black girl, whose name Saoirse was trying to remember. She could only remember how the girl used to look at John. As if he was rotten garbage.

All because he had a huge, most severe deformity. Something that disfigured him almost beyond recognition.

Well, maybe Saoirse should stop judging the girl so harshly... Amy, that was her name. She never did anything terrible to John, anyway. She just avoided eye contact, like mostly everyone.