Angel of his Dreams

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Two best friends finally get together.

Submitted: May 25, 2009

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Submitted: May 25, 2009

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She could light up a room when she smiled. She walked with grace, elegance and poise. Sometimes it seemed as if she was gliding across the floor. She was pleasant and polite to everyone, but not to the point where she became a pushover. She knew her own mind and had an established sense of right and wrong. She was involved with charities. Her voice was full of hope, innocence and laughter. Her eyes sparkled with delight, and when she looked at him, really looked at him, he thought he would drown in the pools of ocean blue. She had a way of looking at a problem and almost instantly finding a solution. She cared about people. She would happily spare time to help people, regardless if she knew them or not. She knew exactly what to say or do. She had the self confidence to carry herself in any situation. She was the nicest person anyone could ever meet without being irritatingly nice. She was incredibly beautiful but she was completely unaware of it. She had fair skin, shoulder length blonde hair which framed her face and her skin seemed to have a soft glow to it. He often thought she looked like an angel.

 

They had been friends for years, as long as anyone could remember. If she was there then he was not far away. She thought of him as the best friend she could ever have. He thought of her as his soul-mate. To her, the years they spent as friends were full of fun and laughter. They had made good memories that would last her a lifetime. To him, the years were spent watching her date other guys that were so wrong for her. They could never appreciate and love her like he could. He waited in the wings, praying for her to see him as more than her friend. He only ever wanted to protect her. He went out with other girls but they were imitations of her, bad imitations of her at that. He spent sleepless nights thinking about ways to tell her how he felt.

 

Then came the day when she found her boyfriend cheating on her. He immediately ran to him and told him everything. He held her as she cried huge wracking sobs. He murmured into her hair and held her in his arms as she fell apart. She calmed eventually and made some comment about how she wished she could find someone like him. Someone who loved her and understood her. Someone who wanted what she wanted. Someone who wanted her to have more. She looked up at him; her eyes still filled with tears and saw everything she wanted in his eyes. Their relationship had irreversibly changed.

 

It was a positive change though. He thought of their relationship like a very large rock or a huge oak with strong roots. It was steady, sure and immoveable. She was happy to have someone finally love her for who she was and to have someone love her as completely as he loved her. He adored her and she him. Their history of friendship provided a foundation for their relationship. They were accepting into each other’s families anyway but now it felt like more. His mother treating her like a daughter and her father taking him on weekend long fishing trips. They seldom argued and when they did they were mild and easily resolved. She would never let them go to sleep with settling an argument.

 

He remembered the article in the local paper. The headline proclaimed ‘Popular Teen mowed down by Drunk Driver’. It had a little background about her. It told of her work with local charities, people gave quotes about her. It would never be enough to do her justice. The police hadn’t found the driver but guessed that he was drunk as the other motorists recalled that he had been driving erratically. The driver had tried to brake but had still hit her. The driver had then reversed and ran her over again before speeding off. The eye witness reports were vague and constantly changing. The colour, make and model changed with every statement. The article claimed that the police may never find the driver.

 

The church was filled with snow white lilies. People were outside listening to the service as there wasn’t enough room inside. He sat with her parents. Her father was trying to mask his grief and her mother was sobbing into a handkerchief. He sat perfectly still, lost in his own thought.

He stood watching her ebony coffin be lowered into the ground. Her mother had his hand in a vice like grip. Her father was standing behind them with a hand on his shoulder. His own parents were on the edge of the group, not wanting to intrude on the trio’s grief but wanting to be close to their son. Mourners passed by offering their sympathies and placing flowers by her grave. He heard very little of what they said. He did hear someone near the back say that the florists would be doing good business. He knew that she would have smiled at that. He somehow found himself crying in her father’s arms. He knew that nobody could ever know that he was the drunk driver.


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