A Girl Like Her

Chapter 11:

Even after the rather wonderful evening Zander and I shared Saturday afternoon at a small coffee shop. I have to admit, it was nice talking to Zander. In a sense, I felt like a person in his eyes. Not some quiet, pitiful girl he needs to be hesitant on talking too in fear one wrong word would break me in half. I was broken, but maybe I wasn't broken beyond repair. Zander couldn't fix me, though. He couldn't help me. He couldn't be around me when I would need someone the most. No one could. At the end of the day, we all leave the world same as we came into it: alone. It's better to be alone. Loneliness prepares you for what Death must be like.

"So, I'm also kind of having trouble with my essay, you know," Kate started, her enthusiastic voice breaking me out of my dark thoughts. I chose to pay attention to her instead of tune her out like usual. "And you helped Zander so I assume you can help me too. Like, it's already written pretty much. I just can't figure out how to end it." She exaggerated.

"Well, tell me about it and maybe I can help with an ending." My voice was soft and almost inaudible. I was surprised by the feebleness to my tone and the uncertainty lacing my every word. I was never this quiet in Georgia. I was always outspoken and fairly obnoxious. I wasn't afraid to voice my thoughts and now here I am two years later. Without a voice to express my agonizing thoughts.

"So, I chose my fear right. I'm afraid of death. Which is weird, I know, considering someone can't escape Death's clutches and all but I'm still afraid. The story is kind of like a thriller, I guess. Death is a real person in my story and at all times he's always just around the corner, waiting to snatch me up but I keep dodging him. But then, there's this little girl in the middle of the road and there's a car coming but she won't get out of the way. So I push her out of the way. That's the part I'm stuck on. I don't know whether to kill off my character and let Death finally have me or do something else." Kate's voice drifted off softly, the sudden eagerness in her tone dying off as she turned to look at my slightly agape mouth.

Pure shock was written across my flustered face, I'm sure. I knew Kate was smart but I didn't know just how good of a writer she actually was. Kate could become a serious writer if she really wanted too.

"What? Is it stupid? Crap, I knew it was-"

"Kate your story sounds amazing. It doesn't sound like you need much help at all. I think you've already figured out what to do." I smiled at her, a genuine smile. Kate didn't need my help. I was certain. She knew what she wanted to write for her ending and so did I. She just wanted someone's second opinion.

"Well, I mean, yeah I guess I have a great idea on how to read it. When I finish, could you do me a favor and proofread mine? After you read Zander's, of course." She smirked, her eyebrows lifting up in a suggestive manner.

I rolled my eyes, my skin heating up at the mere mention of him, who shall not be named.

"Yes, Kate, I'll take a look. Although I don't understand why you want me too. You're smarter than I am."

"Layla, don't be so hard on yourself. I've seen your writings posted in the classroom from time to time. Especially during last year's poetry unit. The teacher used your poems as a reference many times. You don't give yourself enough credit." She smiled, walking away after that.

My face paled over. The poetry unit last year. We were given several different prompts to use in order to write a poem. Mine were never the best, I thought, but I turned them in any way. I didn't think anything of it when at the end of the year, she never returned my poems.

My poetry was dark but there was a beauty in it that my teacher often commented on. I knew she loved my writings from the way she always praised me after she read one of my assignments but I never took notice. Never did I think she would use my dark and twisted poems as a reference.