tears of memory

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
well thats my first story, ill like to hear positive and negative reviews thanks :)

Submitted: March 12, 2017

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Submitted: March 12, 2017



It was a rainy day, like every year, at this day, I woke up, brushed me teeth, got drunk, and went to the train station.
The train was red and heavy, the blue seats were arranged in fours, two in front of another two. A woman sat in the far end of the train, she looked at the window, even that all the train's seats were free, I wanted to sit close to her.  

"Hey there" I told her, "may I sit here?" I asked politely and pointed to the seat in front of her. She smiled at me and nodded.
She had a blue colored hair, green eyes, rather small and she wore a cosplay custom, an angel custom. "What is your name?" I sat in front of her, "My name is Alex, and what with you?", "Alfred" I said to her, "like in Batman?" she asked, "or Alfred Noble" I answered. "What an odd name" she laughed "What an odd custom" I laughed at her. I started a conversation with her. "Oh this old rag, just my good old sports outfit" she giggled, "well a rather unusual sports outfit don’t you think, it seems uncomfortable" I said interested.
"Well the wings are for aerodynamic" she said sarcastically, "so what is the dress for?" I asked. "For being fabulous while doing pushups" she put her finger on her mouth and look outside, she seemed to be stressed about something. "Is that your first time on a train?" I tried to figure out where the stress came from.
"Yes I am afraid I will miss my destination" she answered, "where do you need to get?" I hoped I could help her problem, she moved her head towards me "to visit my boyfriend" she answered quietly. We were quiet for a brief moment.
"Why haven't he came to you?" I asked her. The question surprised her, "He never came to meet me, it is always me going to him" a tear went down her chick.

"Where is your high school?" I tried to change the subject, "I learn in New York and where are you?" she wiped her tears off, "I learn at the high school  in Midtown Manhattan location on 56th Street,, " I smiled.
"Near the Food truck that always give there free French fries?"  She looked interested, I nodded.

"I met my boyfriend at this school" she grinned.
"Why haven't I noticed you?" I asked her, "when I started school, every one hated me, I was a weird girl, watched anime, talked to no body, It didn’t bother me to be alone, but everybody seemed to dislike such a behavior, so I wasn’t much famous do it's not surprising that I was invisible to you" she held her head with her hands. I could see scars on her hands, I did know this girl, and yet I never gave my mind of attention, not enough not in the good way. "How could they hate you, you are so beautiful" I wondered, "I wasn’t always beautiful, anyway, as I kept leaving no friends, no worries. Things just got worse, people that didn’t talk to me wasn’t so much of a problem, but the ones who cursed me, humiliate me, and hurt and sometimes hit me, were the problem" she breathed heavily, "they told me to kill myself, they called me a whore and spoke behind my back, the friends I had were the one who felt bad for me, I hated them" she looked out of the window, I couldn’t get a word out of my mouth. "There were a lot of people who watched how they mentally tortured me, they didn’t do anything, so they were bullies as much as the ones who made my pain" she continued, "after a year, my breasts became bigger, my hair color was changed, and my scars grew bigger, I was changed, I forgot the things I liked, and I just wanted to survive this year" she put her hands on her knees. "And then guys started to talk to me, I got attention, I wasn’t alone, I wasn’t bullied, that’s what I thought" she smiled, "sometimes they touched me, but it didn’t bother me much, it was better the telling me to die" she looked down to her scars, "I dated all of them" a tear fell down on her knees wetting the white dress, "I lied to myself that I'm happy with who I was, but I saw the stares I got, they still called me a whore, photoshoping me in humiliating situations, and sending to each other, talking about me on websites, and treating me like shit" she looked at me, "one day I met a boy, one of the bystanders that watched what happened to me and acted like he didn’t know a thing, we got into a relationship, he didn’t gave me a choice, he was popular after all, I had hope. But the dates wasn’t enough for him, he asked for photos which I gave, he shared them. I used to take a bus every day to his house, I thought that if I end this I will die. He did what he did to me I gave him my virginity, but it didn’t stop the bulling nothing did. He didn’t care, every time I got humiliated he looked at me and ignored, when other boys talked to me, he hit me, when other boys hit me, he joined them, to be a part of the group, not to be diffrent" the train started hopping and shaking "I'm sorry, that you had to suffer" I started crying, "what could you do?" she smirked, "the fake friends I had betrayed me, some tried to get in my pants, other were disgust with me for not being popular enough, I was alone again, I understood I am nothing in this world, I accepted it". "I was hopleless, he tried to change, to be nice, but I couldn’t take this anymore" she looked at me, "why do you trust me so much" I asked her, "I didn’t tell you anything you didn’t knew or told to yourself " the train stopped, "I guess this is my station" she smiled a cold smile, she was pale like a corpse, "will I see you again?" I asked her, "one day" she stepped out of the train "hopefully, soon".

After half an hour I got to the place I needed to be, In front of a school there lies a memorial monument I stood before the tombstone, 'here lies our dear sweet al, may she be a reminder to not lose our humanity,RIP,12.03.2012' I fell on my knees tears fall on the cold tombstone, "I am sorry for all of what I have done to you, for betraying, for hurting you, for not being there one you needed and for not stopping something I knew I had the power to" I yelled.

but I always knew, she will never forgive me. And even me, the one who kneel before that grave, even I, can't forgive myself.

every year for the last five years, I come here to remember, who I should have been.

© Copyright 2018 Peter freelander. All rights reserved.

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