Alana Weston fingered with her Happy Bunny keychain on her cell phone, clearly not feeling happy. She grasped it tightly, but it didn’t help. Her hands feeling sweaty, she wiped it on her jeans and gazed once more at her best friend sleeping. Alana had been friends with Bridget Henley ever since they were half their size. Bridget had always been a little sick, always first to get the flu in class, or getting stung by a whole hive of bees. But suddenly things got worse, and Alana noticed that Bridget began losing hair. It was only a few months ago that Bridget had been diagnosed with cancer, and this was the terminal stage. Bridget’s eyes flickered open, and Alana yelped with joy. She shook Bridget’s hand gently and whispered, “Bridget, can you hear me?” Bridget weakly nodded, and her eyes were almost closed. “Well it looks like this is it, huh?”
Bridget looked into Alana’s eyes and weakly smiled. “This is it. Tell me what you’re going to do after I die.”
Alana wet her lips and shook her head, “It still seems unreal, you know? But I’ve known it for a few months. If only……” Her voice drifted away and she grasped Bridget’s hand tightly.
“Promise me you won’t stay alone. Promise me.”
“How can I? It’s too late. Nobody’s going to make way in their clique’s for a new member.”
Bridget rolled her eyes and said, “They will for you!” She started coughing, and rested for awhile.
A cloud of worry passed Alana’s face. “No they won’t. You’re usually the happy one, nice to everyone. I’m the one who hates puppies and cures rainbows.
Bridget laughed weakly and patted Alana’s back. They stood in silence for awhile, till Alana spoke up. “I love you so much, you know.” No answer. Alana’s eyes darted to the heart rate monitor, the line was dead. Bridget was dead. Alana laid her head on Bridget’s chest and cried. 13 years of love, friendship, kindness, and fun was gone. Death had betrayed Alana.
And suddenly everything froze.
He sucked on his lollipop and listened to his iPod. He shuffled through the songs, and smiled as he played his favorite song, a Maroon Five favorite, ‘This Love’. His name was Dawson Toland, Ernest High’s heartthrob, every girl’s dream. Dawson swayed his head to the music until-well, boredom hit him. He removed his earphones and jogged down the stairs, into his green neighborhood. He looked at the ground, walking and humming, until BHAM! He bumped into someone. A shriek was heard, and a thud. Dawson rubbed his forehead, and looked at who he had bumped into. It was Alana Weston, someone who was near the bottom of the popularity chain. “Um, I’m sorry”
“No, it’s okay.” Alana snapped. Then she left. Whoa, thought Dawson. He ran after her, “What’s wrong?”
She replied, “Why does something have to be wrong?”
He caught his breath. “I don’t know….it just looks like it.”
Alana sighed heavily and said, “Look, it’s none of your business, but if you really want to know, my best friend died. Happy?”
“Wow that must be….weird.”
“Thanks for your opinion, but I really have to go now.”
And with that, Alana Weston ran away. Something fell out of her backpack, and as Dawson bent to pick it up, he smiled. Her diary had fallen out. He smiled even wider, his cheeks practically waggling. It was more than he ever wanted.
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