A Story About You

 It had only been a few weeks since Stefani killed herself, and I was still deteriorating. I ate less and less; I secluded myself from my friends and social events. A part of me died with Stefani. I felt the weight of the world push me deeper in the quicksand when I heard the news because that's when I realized I've been judging her by her cover since we were friends. She always seemed happy; she always smiled; she rarely complained. Stefani loved everything and everyone. Unfortunately, no one loved and appreciated her like she did.

            Although it was snowing outside, the sky grey and snowflakes melting slowly, sliding down the clear, warm window, it was still a beautiful day. The day was December 26th, the day after Christmas. The fact that it was no longer Christmas was irrelevant to me but the 26th of December had other meaning to me. Stefani would be 18 today. I stared out the window and shivered. A moving van pulled into the driveway of Stefani's old house. After Stefani died, her mother moved to Los Angeles where Ronnie, Stefani's brother, attended acting school. LA is better than Virginia, after all. I stood up and adjusted my sweatpants. I went up to my room and pulled on some winter boots and Stefani's Woodside Chorus hoodie. I sniffed it and a tear escaped my eye. It still smelled like her weeks after her death. I ran outside and approached the curb of her house. Living across the street from the now vacant house didn't bother me at first, but as I looked at her house knowing that it was empty, I began to cry. I suddenly felt Stefani's presence when a girl around my age placed her hand on my shoulder.

            "Hey; are you alright?" The girl bored her hazel eyes into my widened brown ones. She looked strangely familiar with ebony hair that barely reached her lower back, milky skin that was inexactly clear of blemishes and acne, and mix-matched clothing. She wore a sky blue sweater, black yoga pants, and pink Vans sneakers. "Why are you crying?" Her voice was loud and outspoken.

            I wiped away my tears before they froze to my face. "It's nothing." I sniffled.

            "Honey, people don't cry about nothing; trust me, I know." She rubbed my shoulders and smiled. "Why don't we go inside where it's warm and I unpack some mugs and make us some hot chocolate?"

            I shook my head. "I wouldn't want to intrude; you guys seem busy."

            The girl laughed. "The movers can do what they are paid while we sit down and chillax. Besides, anyone is welcome in the Greene household." She gestured the house.

            "But, the house is white." I noted. She laughed again.

            "No, that's our last name. My name is Emerald Greene." She smiled wide and took my hand, dragging me into the house.

            I let my lips lift a bit. "Emerald Greene, that's cute."

            Emerald sighed. "Imagine how many times I've heard that at my old school." I was going to ask if her birthday was in May but I stopped myself when I noticed how annoyed she looked. "No, my birthday is not in May. Actually, my birthday is today." A woman who I assume is her mother, brought in a bouquet of roses and balloons that read 'Happy 18th Birthday!'.

            "Oh, happy birthday!" I cringed as the words were removed from my mouth. I looked down at the carpeted floor. They didn't lift it or change the color so the familiar feel of the almost-but-not-so-much silky carpet made me start spewing tears like a sprinkler.

            "Hey." Emerald whispered sympathetically. She led me to the bay window and sat me down. "It's not nothing. What's the matter; why are you crying?"

            I shrugged, trying to pull myself together. "I'm fine, really." Emerald wasn't buying it.

            "Tell me what's wrong."