Bye Bye Blackbird

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Just an Image
Love, pain, notes, letters,words, sentences, that's what make our world like? Don't let go... "
Gonna pack up all my care and woe,
Here I go singin' low,
Bye, bye blackbird."

Submitted: November 02, 2016

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Submitted: November 02, 2016

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298, Bye Bye Blackbird

 

Pain… It’s what I felt that evening. I couldn’t change it. It caught me physically and mentally. It choked me, it stabbed me. He wanted to change, but didn’t, he just left. After all, he didn’t want to be here…

“Hey Mai! Wait up!” Chris ran up to me, as his hand gently touched my hand. I turned around just to see him smiling. “Yes?” I asked in the most charming way I could. “I’ll w-walk you home. I figured there is nothing better I could do…” he stammered. I liked what he said. It made me happy, that I could be with him. Lately he had such a high wall. I could see him being nervous, and I understood him. 

As we walked, the nervous silence choked us bit by bit. “I-I want to make a confession…” He slowly stammered. I looked at him. His ocean eyes were so deep. I could feel shivers go down my spine. “What does it mean if I feel a sudden hit in my heart whenever I see one person?” he suddenly asked. “What does it mean when I start stammering next to her?” Chris continued. “Well, by the knowledge of many novels, it means love…” I slowly answered. He turned his head to the other side. “What would be you confession?” I asked. “I-It’s nothing…” he whispered. I stayed silent. What did he mean by the hit? What did he mean by stammering? Those questions bothered me more and more by every second. 

Out of nowhere he started playing a song from his iPhone. 

 

Gonna pack up all my care and woe,

Here I go singin' low,

Bye, bye blackbird.

 

No one here can love or understand me,

Oh what a hard luck stories they all hand me.

So make my bed, light the light,

I'll arrive late tonight.

Blackbird, bye bye.

 

“Thank you… For walking me home…” I whispered. He didn’t answer. His lips where tightly sealed it seemed like he was in another planet. I gently turned around and opened the door of my house. There another world awaited me. “What grade did you get today?” I heard my mother shout. “8!” I screamed in the corridor. “No friends this weekend!” I was used to that. My mother asks about my grades. First thing. I answer. No more communication occurs after that. My father is in Australia. He left me and my mother four years ago. With my math  teacher. It’s not a big deal. I mean, I don’t really care. Most of the time he was in the casino, or the bar. My brother has a girlfriend, I haven’t seen him for a month now.

“Homework!” I heard my mother scream from the kitchen. My backpack laid on the other side of my room. So dark, forgotten. I didn’t want it. I just wanted to think about Chris. His eyes, his voice. I wonder is he thinking about me? I saw my reflection in the mirror. I hate my eyes. Most people say they’re beautiful, no they aren’t. 

My phone rang. Lim was calling. “Yes?” I answered. “Chris is in the hospital.” Lim whispered. I slowly sat down on my bed and whispered back: “Which one?” “5th avenue.” I ended the call. With no good-bye, nothing. I had to go to the hospital. 

“I’m going to the hospital.” I said while opening the door. “No. First homework” my mother ordered. I didn’t listen to her. Just closed the door. Ran to the bus stop and drove off. 

I watched the other people. With their worries. I wonder what they’re thinking about. But they all seemed the same. Grey, un-caring.

The hospital was empty. The silence was killing me. “Chris Evanson?” I asked the first person. “298”. The elevators were old. So where the memories. When my mother broke her leg. I remember the night. My grandma was there. Her cigarette smell is still next to me. 

Chris’s mother was sitting next to the door. On the ground. Her make up was dripping. Her hair was messed up. She seems like an intelligent woman in the city, but here, another person.  “Miss Evanson?” I asked. She looked at me with painful eyes. “He committed suicide…” she whimpered. I didn’t say anything. But I know that something broke in me that same moment. Like a string being cut. “B-But he left YOU a note..” she took out a napkin. There I saw letters, words, sentences. My brain wasn’t mentally ready for reading it. I put it in my pocket and left. Without coming in the room. I didn’t want to see him. 

I walked home, looking around. The rain stabbed me harder and harder. People around me, emotionless. My world upside down. The clouds floated, so light, free. I always wanted to be one. 

My homework was hard. I finished it and went to watch a movie. It wasn’t interesting. My mother was with her friend. My brother was with his girlfriend. Dinner was tasteless, like my world. My house was empty, gray. What can I say? Life really has no color. 

While dressing into my onesie, a napkin fell out of my pocket. That’s when I remembered. The napkin that miss Evanson handed. I laid on my bed, turned my lights off, set my stars to shine. As I slowly opened the napkin, my brain was collapsing, my body rotted. It melted. Pain inside, was what bit by bit dissembled my puzzle. It couldn’t be taken, it’s the pain, that stays attached. And that’s what the short note said:

That was love, after all. The novels where right. Thank you, bye bye blackbird…


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