Categories > Original > Drama
When I’m around her, she makes every season seem like summer. I know, it’s really corny, but her bright personality and her energy warms up the cold afternoon life gives me. I can’t help but smile and laugh when I’m around her. I don’t even think she knows how she makes people feel. She’s just herself, walking around with a smile that’s bigger than the universe. That is my reason alone to love her so much.
She talks fast when something penetrates her heart. Whether it’s something that virtually pissed her off or something that enthralled her, she’s speaking fast. She sighs and gets louder until I tell her to calm down. She listens but her intensity never leaves. She’s learning to control her overflowing emotions but a part of me doesn’t want her to control them. I thrive on them. If she’s calm, days are dull.
Her name is Kassidy. Kassidy likes to bend down in the park and pick at the weeds. They would be lined up on the brim of the stoned walkway as we watch children run in the grass. She often has mistaken them for flowers because they have a yellow head. I tell her, “They’re ugly and they stink. They aren’t flowers,” She puts them down and keeps going. Sometimes, she takes them with her. Kassidy is horribly hardheaded.
Kassidy is four years my junior. I met her when I was eleven and she was only seven. Her brother, Giovanni, is the same age as me and we usually have the same classes together. I talk to him but never get in depth with any of the conversations we have. That’s my brother’s job. They are best friends.
When I first met Kassidy, she didn’t speak so clearly. She mumbled a lot and cried when things didn’t go her way. At first, I found her spoiled and annoying. I couldn’t tolerate her impulsive, whiney behavior. However, Giovanni did. At first, I thought he stomached it because they are siblings. However, I began to see it was more than that. He enjoyed babying her and spoiling her. He adored her. He was patient with her and listened to everything she said. None of her quirks fazed him and I admired that.
Kassidy, eventually, grew onto me. Her turquoise eyes grew narrower with age and her mane of black hair grew longer. She’s petite with a personality that can shake mountains. It’s as if it makes up for the lack of height she has. Kassidy sweeps the world away with her charisma and her genuine charm. She’s like a big pile of epiphanies. Once you meet her, your life is never the same.
Without me realizing it, Kassidy has become the center to my universe. Her every mood reflects mine and determines how my day will be like. Kassidy has force that stops the cosmic waves of bad days coming unless she’s crying. She rarely cries. But when she does, the clouds get darker and a storm brews. She may not cry often but when she does, she cries A LOT.
I love Kassidy. I love her for her energy and her passion to be a good friend. She’s dedicated her whole life to making me smile even if it’s on friendly terms. A part of me wants to man up and tell her I want to be more than her friend but a huge part of me feels that’s inappropriate. She’s been my best friend since the beginning of time. Our relationship would turn upside down and inside out. However, it doesn’t stop me from loving her.
I love Kassidy for her wit, her humor, and her obscene level of intelligence. She’s, by far, the smartest person I know. She’s young but she reads, reads, and reads about the universe and more. She’s intrigued by the simple pleasures of life. She’s fascinated about how the world works and the species that occupy it. She’s like one big vacuum that plans to consume the knowledge of the world around her. I motivate her to do it because I love hearing her tell me what she’s learned. I just love hearing her talk.
Kassidy is a good person, through and through. Despite Kassidy being the perfect girl, she’s dying. She’s dying and she knows it. Out of everyone who knows, she’s the only person that’s not fretting over it. She’s not sobbing or getting depressed. She’s standing tall and remaining the way she is. You would’ve thought she was perfectly normal. She acts like she’s 100% ok. But, she’s not.
Sometimes, Kassidy’s body aches enough to paralyze her in bed. Sometimes, she suffers from fatigue. She’s losing weight because her appetite comes when it pleases and she throws up a lot because of her medication. Even if she’s not shaken by her illness, I am. I cry for her. I get angry for her. I curse for her because I hate how it feels to know I’m losing her. And even thought I love her so much, I know I will not be anything other than a brother to her.
All of this was so sudden too. It was literally one day, after feeling dizzy for a whole week, that she decided to go to the hospital and have her body examined. She asked me to pick her up and I regret telling her, “I’m in the middle of class,” She was quiet in the other line and said she’d wait for me. She told me she wouldn’t leave unless I was by her side. I began to worry and I asked her what happened. She didn’t say anything. I decided to leave class regardless and walk off of campus to find her. My heart hammered hard. I prayed she was ok.
“I have leukemia,” she says slowly. Her eyes are watery but a tear won’t fall. We stood in front of the double doors of the hospital, right in front of the parking lot. Cars were parked vertically in rows and yellow lines occupied the ground to point to different levels of stationary parking. I wore my favorite pair of jeans that day. They were navy blue and torn at the knees. I had a cigarette in my hand. For a second, I forgot how to breathe and then, I let my breath go. “Kassidy,” I say but my voice breaks. She won’t cry. She won’t allow herself to. But, I can tell she’s frightened. She’s so pretty, so perfect, and cursed with this disease. And what can I do? I can only hold her hand and stand idly as she dies. She tells me, all the time, that it’s enough. For me, it’s nowhere near enough.
It’s the worse feeling in world. The absolute worse. I mean, there stood the girl of my dreams. She wore a pretty pink dress that blew in the wind. The sun shun perfectly on her body, brightening up her eyes and pale skin. I dropped my cigarette and started to sob. I pinched the bridge of my nose but the crying didn’t lessen. I wanted to be the brave one for her but that has to be the hardest thing I’d ever have to face in my life. She hugged me and rubbed my back. I couldn’t speak. I didn’t want to speak. The pain was just too great for words.
Recently, Kassidy has been in the hospital. She’s lost her hair to chemotherapy and smiles so brightly every time she sees me. She’s frail with bags under her turquoise eyes but it never stops her from being so animate. Every time I see her, I give her a dozen of roses. She loves roses. They are always wrapped in pink paper with a white bow around it. I rest them on her breasts and she smiles. The hardest part in all this is seeing her smile. I can’t stop myself from wondering when it will be the last time I’ll see it. She takes my roses and begins to speak. When she speaks, I forget about the world, about my tears, about our fears. It’s only about me and her until the day she dies.
She talks fast when something penetrates her heart. Whether it’s something that virtually pissed her off or something that enthralled her, she’s speaking fast. She sighs and gets louder until I tell her to calm down. She listens but her intensity never leaves. She’s learning to control her overflowing emotions but a part of me doesn’t want her to control them. I thrive on them. If she’s calm, days are dull.
Her name is Kassidy. Kassidy likes to bend down in the park and pick at the weeds. They would be lined up on the brim of the stoned walkway as we watch children run in the grass. She often has mistaken them for flowers because they have a yellow head. I tell her, “They’re ugly and they stink. They aren’t flowers,” She puts them down and keeps going. Sometimes, she takes them with her. Kassidy is horribly hardheaded.
Kassidy is four years my junior. I met her when I was eleven and she was only seven. Her brother, Giovanni, is the same age as me and we usually have the same classes together. I talk to him but never get in depth with any of the conversations we have. That’s my brother’s job. They are best friends.
When I first met Kassidy, she didn’t speak so clearly. She mumbled a lot and cried when things didn’t go her way. At first, I found her spoiled and annoying. I couldn’t tolerate her impulsive, whiney behavior. However, Giovanni did. At first, I thought he stomached it because they are siblings. However, I began to see it was more than that. He enjoyed babying her and spoiling her. He adored her. He was patient with her and listened to everything she said. None of her quirks fazed him and I admired that.
Kassidy, eventually, grew onto me. Her turquoise eyes grew narrower with age and her mane of black hair grew longer. She’s petite with a personality that can shake mountains. It’s as if it makes up for the lack of height she has. Kassidy sweeps the world away with her charisma and her genuine charm. She’s like a big pile of epiphanies. Once you meet her, your life is never the same.
Without me realizing it, Kassidy has become the center to my universe. Her every mood reflects mine and determines how my day will be like. Kassidy has force that stops the cosmic waves of bad days coming unless she’s crying. She rarely cries. But when she does, the clouds get darker and a storm brews. She may not cry often but when she does, she cries A LOT.
I love Kassidy. I love her for her energy and her passion to be a good friend. She’s dedicated her whole life to making me smile even if it’s on friendly terms. A part of me wants to man up and tell her I want to be more than her friend but a huge part of me feels that’s inappropriate. She’s been my best friend since the beginning of time. Our relationship would turn upside down and inside out. However, it doesn’t stop me from loving her.
I love Kassidy for her wit, her humor, and her obscene level of intelligence. She’s, by far, the smartest person I know. She’s young but she reads, reads, and reads about the universe and more. She’s intrigued by the simple pleasures of life. She’s fascinated about how the world works and the species that occupy it. She’s like one big vacuum that plans to consume the knowledge of the world around her. I motivate her to do it because I love hearing her tell me what she’s learned. I just love hearing her talk.
Kassidy is a good person, through and through. Despite Kassidy being the perfect girl, she’s dying. She’s dying and she knows it. Out of everyone who knows, she’s the only person that’s not fretting over it. She’s not sobbing or getting depressed. She’s standing tall and remaining the way she is. You would’ve thought she was perfectly normal. She acts like she’s 100% ok. But, she’s not.
Sometimes, Kassidy’s body aches enough to paralyze her in bed. Sometimes, she suffers from fatigue. She’s losing weight because her appetite comes when it pleases and she throws up a lot because of her medication. Even if she’s not shaken by her illness, I am. I cry for her. I get angry for her. I curse for her because I hate how it feels to know I’m losing her. And even thought I love her so much, I know I will not be anything other than a brother to her.
All of this was so sudden too. It was literally one day, after feeling dizzy for a whole week, that she decided to go to the hospital and have her body examined. She asked me to pick her up and I regret telling her, “I’m in the middle of class,” She was quiet in the other line and said she’d wait for me. She told me she wouldn’t leave unless I was by her side. I began to worry and I asked her what happened. She didn’t say anything. I decided to leave class regardless and walk off of campus to find her. My heart hammered hard. I prayed she was ok.
“I have leukemia,” she says slowly. Her eyes are watery but a tear won’t fall. We stood in front of the double doors of the hospital, right in front of the parking lot. Cars were parked vertically in rows and yellow lines occupied the ground to point to different levels of stationary parking. I wore my favorite pair of jeans that day. They were navy blue and torn at the knees. I had a cigarette in my hand. For a second, I forgot how to breathe and then, I let my breath go. “Kassidy,” I say but my voice breaks. She won’t cry. She won’t allow herself to. But, I can tell she’s frightened. She’s so pretty, so perfect, and cursed with this disease. And what can I do? I can only hold her hand and stand idly as she dies. She tells me, all the time, that it’s enough. For me, it’s nowhere near enough.
It’s the worse feeling in world. The absolute worse. I mean, there stood the girl of my dreams. She wore a pretty pink dress that blew in the wind. The sun shun perfectly on her body, brightening up her eyes and pale skin. I dropped my cigarette and started to sob. I pinched the bridge of my nose but the crying didn’t lessen. I wanted to be the brave one for her but that has to be the hardest thing I’d ever have to face in my life. She hugged me and rubbed my back. I couldn’t speak. I didn’t want to speak. The pain was just too great for words.
Recently, Kassidy has been in the hospital. She’s lost her hair to chemotherapy and smiles so brightly every time she sees me. She’s frail with bags under her turquoise eyes but it never stops her from being so animate. Every time I see her, I give her a dozen of roses. She loves roses. They are always wrapped in pink paper with a white bow around it. I rest them on her breasts and she smiles. The hardest part in all this is seeing her smile. I can’t stop myself from wondering when it will be the last time I’ll see it. She takes my roses and begins to speak. When she speaks, I forget about the world, about my tears, about our fears. It’s only about me and her until the day she dies.
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