Artgirl

16// blue

artgirl 16: blue

"Heard about all the love you lost. It was over before it began; heard about all the miles you've gone...Heard about all the things you've been through. It sounds like you need a friend," ZAYN (Rearview by my boy.)

Nicolas Bear Forrest

       THERE WAS A MOMENT WHEN I KNEW ZOEY'S SOUL COULD NEVER DIE. On the night of the campfire, when she had drunkenly kissed me. We'd barely spoken a few sentences to each other, but they had been full of sarcasm and awkwardness. Her eyes never stopped being kind, even when I wasn't.

She was sad that night, later I would discover that it was because of her friend's betrayal, by going out with Oliver, her old crush. She was slurring her words and a mess, but she still came to sit on a small pillow next to me, watching the fire crackle a few feet away.

"Hi," she said.

I had stared at her, because she was light on the heart and seeing her intoxicated made every sentence breezy and clumsy all at once. "Hey."

"So," she smiled, "how do you like it here so far?"

"It isn't bad, I guess. A bit too small for my taste, though. Restricting."

Her laugh resounded in my ears, "small? Oh, you have no idea how pretty this town is."

"The people in it sure are."

"Me?" she put her hand on her chest, taken aback. Then: "of course, me. I'm pretty, but in a very low-key way, you know. At first glance, I'm nothing special. But when you get to know me, that's when you love me. Unless you're a dick named Oliver, then you're stupid enough not to love me."

Even when she was drunk, she blabbered.

"So, what I'm getting is that no one can't not love you?"

She shook her head and her smile faltered. "I've got a lot of love inside of me, and I give it out to people. Isn't it the kind thing to do for them to give it back?"

I stayed silent at that. The silence irked her, so she asked: "Don't you think it's beautiful? The fire, I mean. All the colors."

I nodded, and that was when I saw them. The colors, all around her. They were dancing, touching every part of her. She glowed with the colors of the world, and her soul seemed to never let that go. That was the first time I'd seen her glow, not the last. She'd done the same when she saw Walters, when she was biking with a little bit of wind in her hair, when she smiled and when she cried.

Her entire existence glowed.

Pulled back to reality, I looked at her now. Hair short, hand hurt and tears that never ended. She didn't glow now, not as much. Her lights were slowly fading away. I looked away. Her pain was contagious and I was afraid if I had gotten any more, I would burst into the same flames from that campfire.

She got up to make a speech, with a paper and shaky hands. She tucked her hair behind her ears, closed her eyes and started to read. "Harold Walters was—oh, God," the tears fell and fell, and her voice broke along with them. "H-he was—"

Diana and Skye ran to their friend's side, asking if she wanted one of them to read her speech instead. She shook her head and pushed them away gently. "Sorry. Harold Walters was the best man I knew. He was a loved husband, father and most importantly, friend. His heart opened to anyone and he took people under his wing without thinking twice," she stopped her gaze adrift.

"He believed in people and trusted them to do what was right. He changed anyone he met by a few words and our lives were better with him. Our lives are amazing just by having the honor of knowing him, because if I—well, he never gave me the chance to wish for a father. I already had him, and he was more than a dad to me. He loved to laugh and lived to love, and I'm sure he wouldn't want us to cry. So, in Harry Walters' honor; here is his favorite song of all time: Don't Stop Me Now, by Queen."