The Note

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Bright rays of sunlight stream through the gaps in her curtains. Monique groans and rolls over, moaning at the thought of the literature assignment she has to hand in by the end of school. Her eyes flutter open at the sound of his voice and her lips form a smile as her brown eyes meet his blue ones.

"Hey." Her voice sounds hoarse. It's barely a whisper.

"Morning." He gently removes strands of hair from her face and leans closer towards her, their faces almost touching. "Ready for another day?"

She rolls her eyes. "Don't remind me."

He chuckles. She grins. His laughter sounds like a hundred bells chiming softly in the wind. For a moment, she thinks of reaching out and touching his cheek. The urge to feel his warm flesh beneath her fingers is overpowering. 

But she can't.  

She knows if she reaches out for him, she'll feel nothing. Nothing but the cold air between her fingers.

She frees her legs from the confinement of the rouge and midnight blankets. Her red hair falls carelessly on her face as she cranes her neck from side to side in a bid to stretch it. She looks up, trying to steal a glance at him. His eyes twinkle and he beams showing his two perfect rows of teeth. Monique smiles and begins getting ready for school.

As she swings her bag over her shoulder and munches on a muesli bar whilst heading out to school, she hears him say, "Happy seventeenth birthday Monique." The twinge of sadness in his voice freezes her blood. For a moment, she's scared; scared of losing him. She can't imagine life without him. Her mum once told her people like him were guardian angels. She doesn't want to lose him. She doesn't want to lose her angel. She turns around and gives him a smile, before walking away.

School passes painfully slowly. Her friends made her a small cake and celebrated her birthday with her at lunchtime. But her mind is mostly on him. He's probably in her bedroom reading Pride and Prejudice or David Copperfield. John has a love for classic books. He says, "It's better than the shit published today." If he's not reading, he'll be standing on the top of the house, watching the world below him.

School finishes and she hurries home. She can't wait to see him again. She can't wait to open the presents her parents have bought her. Hopefully, she'll get a new car. Maybe she'll receive some money from her dad. She opens the door and rushes inside.

"John I'm home!" she says on top of her lungs as she dashes upstairs. She throws her room door open. The green curtains slowly ruffle in the afternoon breeze. She closes the window. She hurries to the attic expecting to find him there. He's not there. She furrows her brows and heads back to the room calling his name.

She stops.

A lump rises in her throat. John didn't wait for her on the front porch like he always does. She parts the curtain and looks out the window hoping, praying she'll see him outside, waving at her, calling her an idiot for thinking he'd ever leave her. She sees the note on her bedside table. Her heart catches in her throat. She reads the note with trembling hands. His writing is hastily scrawled in blue ink and slowly fades away as the letter finishes. She hears her parents' car pull up the driveway. The door opens and their excited voices break the silence like shattering glass. She has a brand new car. She has two thousand dollars.  

It means nothing. The note is still in her hand and there's a bitter taste in her mouth.

John said he'd never leave her. He promised he'd never ever leave. He was going to sail to ends of the earth with her. They were supposed to climb Mount Everest and conquer the world.

Now he's gone.


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