Who Was Maya Hart? {Lucaya} (Completed)

Chapter twelve

Seven months. Seven months Maya was in my life for. The average person lives seventy eight years. Yet this girl who was only in my life for two hundred and ten days left such a impact on my life.  

Maya Hart. Maya Penelope Hart. She messed me up real bad.

Maya's death was ruled a suicide. I didn't believe it at first. There was a witness who watched it happen. The entire thing. He said that she was speeding down the road and was getting faster and faster. He was going to tell her to slow down but instead she flew at nearly fifty miles per hour right into the telephone pole. Can you imagine watching someone die right in front of you? He said he stood there frozen for a couple seconds then went running up to the car and started banging on the windows. He tried to open the car door but it was locked. He took a rock and smashed the window to get her out of there. The car could have gone up into flames at any minute. Luckily it didn't and luckily he was there. He pulled her out of the car and checked her pulse. Nothing. Not even a little tiny pulse to try and get her heart pumping again. He said she had a tear streaked face when he found her. That really hurt me a lot. She was sobbing right before it was all over. He called the police and they got there in less then five minutes. They tried CPR. It didn't work. She was pronounced dead at the scene. She had her school ID in her pocket. So I guess they would know who she was when they found her. She didn't even have a license or a learners permit yet. She had no idea how to control that car.

I didn't believe it was a suicide until they found the note. I read it. I still couldn't believe it. It's still hard to wrap my head around the fact that she's dead, let alone that she did it on purpose.

In the note she said something about maybe she will just keep driving and maybe she will decide not to do it anymore. I wish that's what happened. I wish she was just driving and driving until she pulled over. I wish she would have just called me and had me pick her up at wherever she was at whatever time of night it would be. I would make her leave the car and make her get into my car. I would sit there and hug her until she stopped crying. She would tell me everything from what she was going to do to the baby. Then I would take her back to my house and make her sleep there. Mainly so I could keep an eye on her and I would probably never let her out of my sight again. Also I would be able to comfort her all night.

Then there's the baby. That baby that was going to be half me and half Maya. I still can't figure out if she did it because of the baby or something else but that seems like the obvious answer. I hope that wasn't the reason because I was the one who got her pregnant.

She could have gotten a abortion if she wanted. I would have even taken her down there to go get it. Or if she didn't want to tell me I would have been fine with that too. She could have told me twenty years from now when we were married with all our other children. But now I'm not marrying Maya. I can't marry Maya. I will probably end up marrying someone else but I don't want to think about that right now.

Or maybe she would have liked to keep the baby. I'm ready to take her to all her doctors appointments. I'm ready to stand up for her whenever someone says something at school. I'm ready to hear her complain about how big she was getting or that her feet hurt or her back. I'm ready to touch Maya's belly and feel the baby kick. Then after he or she was born I would have already graduated and I could have stayed home and taken care of the baby all day while Maya was at school. Unless she decides to quit school. I don't know. That's up to her.

What I am saying is I may not have been ready to be a father but I am more then ready to be the supportive boyfriend.

The last time I talked to Maya was about a hour before it happened. I texted her saying "Goodnight beautiful. I love you so much. I'll see you in the morning" and she just wrote back "I love you too". Maybe if I kept a conversation going she wouldn't have gone through with it. Maybe I could have saved her. The last time I physically saw her was at school that day. I'm just glad the last thing she ever heard from me was something nice and sweet.

I haven't been back to school since it happened. Dad doesn't want me going. Riley says it is just like a Maya Hart memorial there. Her locker is all decorated in letters to her and teddy bears and everything else you would see at a memorial. I had Riley go to my locker and take down the few pictures it had of me and Maya in there. When I go back I don't want that to be the first thing I see. I would probably break down crying. Riley says everyone there pretends they were her best friend and they cared so much about her. That's all bullshit. No one ever talked to her. I was the only one there who really care about her... and Mr. Jackson of course. He was a great teacher for her.

I didn't go to her funeral. I couldn't go. I didn't want to see her in that casket. I told to Mrs. Hart beforehand and apologized. She said it is fine and she gets it. I had Riley speak for me. I heard she did a great job. She told some of our best stories. Her dad was invited too but he didn't show up. What asshole doesn't show up to there own daughters funeral? She was so better off without him. He could have been a big reason why she did it.

I just wish none of this had ever happened. I just want her with me right now. I want her in my bed laying next to me while I hold her and it was like nothing bad in the world was happening. But it did happen and there is nothing I can do to change that.

It happened exactly two weeks ago and it still hurts. I barley leave my room. I only eat like one meal a day. My family says it's unhealthy but I don't really care. It's just awkward being around my family. It's like they are stepping on egg shells around me and I don't like it. I cry way to much and I don't like it. But whenever I stop crying I feel guilty. I don't want to move on. I don't want her to think I forgot about her. I'll never forget about her. I think she would want me to move on but I don't know.

So to finish this off, Maya I love you more than I can even express with words. And I miss you more then I can express with words. Also, please know I will never be mad at you for this.

Love,
     Lucas Friar