Pinkie Promise

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It's been two weeks - two long, painful weeks. You were in bed, staring at your alarm clock that read 2:37 am. Its large, red numbers were burning your sensitive, glassed over eyes. You hadn't been sleeping very well since that one Wednesday of that awful, breezy Spring day.

You had remembered its events in such precision and so vividly...


The day was slightly cool and breezy. You wore your hair up after cleaning the apartment up. You were wearing some black, flower print leggings with a thin, black sweater. Your head was sweaty after hauling not so heavy boxes out of the extra room that was about to be transformed into something magical. You carried the boxes out into the living room where Shawn was then gonna transport them to storage, where they'd be properly stacked and stored until further notice.

You carried colorful assortments of paint into the room, grabbing the tarps. You were waiting for Shawn to come home from the airport.

You were so excited and full of happiness.

It was just the start of you and Shawn's life together.

While you were waiting, you had sat down on the couch to put on NBC to watch The Office, your favorite show that you got Shawn addicted to. You were secretly watching it without him, but you promised yourself you'd keep it a secret -- lips sealed and the key is thrown away into another galaxy.

In the midst of the show, you got a call from Karen.

You answered the phone and hear some sniffling on the other end. Confused, you check if it was really your mother-in-law.

Surely enough, it was.

"Karen, is everything okay? Why are you crying?" Your mind raced, your heart beat a million times a second, and you felt sick to your stomach.

"It's Shawn, Y/N. He didn't make it."

"Make what? To the airport? Why didn't he call then?" You wait for an answer, but there was nothing but silence. You called her name again. No response. "Ma, what do you mean he didn't make it? He texted me saying he was on his way."

You hear Aaliyah in the background screaming, and then Karen crying. Then the crying and screaming were muffled; it all got distant and quiet.

"Y/N, Shawn got in a really bad car accident. He didn't make it." It was Manuel talking. "He's gone."

You shook your head and began hysterically laughing. "No, you're lying. He's fine. I just texted him a while ago." You were clearly in denial despite all the crying and screaming on the other end. "No, it's not true." The laughing has transitioned into soft gasps of air to subtle crying. Finally, you were bawling your eyes out.

"No," you cry. You yell into the phone. "No!"

"Hun, it's true. It's already spreading on social media. I'm sorry. You loved you so much, and you're going to be okay. We will get through this together - as a family."

"Manuel, you don't understand. I can't do this alone. I can't. I can't be a single mother!"

"Wait, what do you mean a single mother? Are you-"

"We were going to tell you in a few months for Christmas. I'm pregnant." You hear Manuel sobbing on the other end. You wipe your face, but the tears keep streaming down your face. You hang up the phone and throw it at the t.v. You crack the screen, but it didn't matter.

Nothing mattered anymore.

You were angry - at the world, at God, at Shawn.

He pinkie promised; he pinkie promised he'd get home safe. He swore that he'd love you for eternity. He promised he wouldn't leave you.

You brought your legs against your chest and cried. "You pinkie promised, Shawn. How could you!" You sob and sob until you grew tired. "You promised..."


You walk over to the newly painted room, the one you were cleaning the day when you heard the news. You had hired a professional painter to come to paint a jungle of animals on the wall. It was what you had pictured: carnivores, herbivores, and all.

Manuel, Karen, and Aaliyah were here yesterday to check on you; they had left early this morning to go back home. Before they left, they had taken you out to breakfast a few hours ago.

Now, it was nearly lunch, but you hadn't felt like eaten. You had forced yourself to eat - if not for you, for your baby.

You make yourself a grilled cheese sandwich and munched down on a quarter of it before you felt sick. You rush to the bathroom and unfill your guts, pouring your insides to the toilet bowl -- weak and vulnerable.

You sit there, staring down at your legs tucked underneath you.

You cry, "I can't do this." You sob and sob. But you'd imagine what Shawn would be saying to you now.

He'd call you beautiful, strong, and independent, and that ever since he's laid eyes on you, you'd been nothing but a beautiful and thrilling mystery he wanted to discover. You were the love of his life, and without a doubt, the most perfect girl that he had been searching for. Now that he had finally married you - the love of his life - and that you were pregnant with a mini Shawn and You, you were only the beginning of his extended love. Now he had a child on the way. Finally, it was the start of Y/L/N and Mendes family. You were going to be a wonderful mother, and he'd be there every step of the way - even in death.

You wipe away the tears and whisper. "We're going to be okay. I pinkie promise."

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