Nine Minutes

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On the Tenth day after Miss Summers death there wasn't a soul in the household that held a basket of letters, so the daring Harry Kirk opened the unlocked kitchen window, and crawled over the sink with some valiant effort. The children were at some form of school, and Amy Summers had booked herself in at a spa, in the hopes of clearing her head.

The day before, when Harry had been reading his note from Maya, she had sensed darkness inside of him; and there was a darkness inside of him, but it was only caused in the fortnight past. On the day he had met Maya, he gave her a vow, that he'd keep her safe, if it cost him his life. Although she hadn't promised the same, she had promised to give him clues to the safety she needed.

The darkness inside of Harry, had never truly been darkness, it had been desperation to find answers for himself. The day she told him what she was planning, he hadn't been paying close attention, he was her listener, but that day – she was so vague and unattainable that he zoned out completely. Now he was clutching at straws, begging himself to zone back into her rant.

She'd been so anxious that day, her eyes screaming into his to listen, and perhaps she thought he was, he always had looked like he had.

He had slipped back out of the house in a few moments after taking the letters in his hand, but hadn't gone home like he had planned, instead he had found himself in the Orange Courtyard, where he and Maya spent their lunch breaks talking of things she'd dare not speak of elsewhere. He sat in the grass, in the back corner, beside the oak pond, surrounded by cherry trees, and stared at the hamper of letters, willing himself to open at least one.

"Hey uh, Harry, man?" His eyes flicker up to see the jaded figure of Jack. Harry and Jack had become friends in a short amount of time, and they'd been getting along without knowing a lot about each other. However, when he came into view of the green orbs that greeted him, his throat hitched. The kid looked like hell, complete hell. Harry knew that he hadn't taken Maya's "suicide" well, but he hadn't believed he'd gotten this bad.

"Yeah, man?"

"I went round to Maya's, and uh, long story short, do you have my letter?"

"I – Do you really think you can handle it?"

"What are you saying?" He groaned, grasping the letter from the hamper that Harry had managed to scoot behind his back, but failed to hide.

"You're a train wreck. You're waiting for a train that'll never come in. You're waiting for her, and she's not coming back."

"You don't know Maya as I do, she wouldn't just die."

"I know more than you ever will." And with that, Harry Kirk left that courtyard, with the hamper of letters grasped in his hand, and a terrified Jack, staring at an ebony coloured envelope.

"Dear Jack,

By now, I feel as though Harry has taken these letters for himself, and eventually he'll read them, but he hasn't yet, at least I don't think he has. You would've gone out of your way to get yours though, right? So hopefully it's not he that's reading this, because then he'd have disobeyed everything I said not to.

I know it may be hard for you to understand, and you're looking for answers, and you'll probably be a disaster right now. If I know you, and I hope I do. I need you to fix yourself for me, for past me, present me, and future me.

You don't deserve to be so traumatised by what Katie and I have done, you're much better than that. You'll always be my best friend, you've always been, why would that change? I told you in that cornfield, while we were staring up at the clouds, with eight tubs of ice-cream, and heavy hearts, that you would always be my best friend, and you know I keep my promises.

I debated hard, letting you know why, or how, or even to get you in on it, but then I saw your little girl, oh that girl is too precious for me to take you away from her.

I want to tell you right now; you're an amazing dad, and I know people tell you over and over again that you'll never do her justice, and that your girlfriend's worst mistake was choosing you in the first place – but they are wrong, they've always been wrong. You're perfection, to me, to Katie, and to that little girl.

You've got to be her superhero, because you were definitely one of mine, a hero.

I know it's going to be hard, but any time you're having a bad day, or you need to cry, think of me, and think of the Maya you love. Imagine I'm there smiling and holding your hand like I always had, giving you our special hug, and telling you that it's okay to feel the way you do. If someone ever hurts you, picture me with you, and I know you can always lift yourself higher than it.

I was lucky to have you as a best friend, Jack, but remember you're always going to be that one guy I can rely on,

No one can replace you, Maya."

Jack hadn't cried since his ninth birthday, when Maya had smashed his cake into his face in a fit of tears, because he hadn't given her the biggest slice, but he was crying now, and the tears wouldn't stop – until he felt a hand on his hip, which was removed in seconds, but he didn't see anyone leave, or arrive.

He unravelled his hand, to find a small note, on rugged blue paper.

"By the by, I forgot to say, I love you, even if you are an idiot!"  


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