Our Last Goodbye

A Story by Calvin Bennett

A short story about two teenagers and their last night together before the girl moves across the country for school.

“You are my everything,” I whispered in her ear. I knew I would love this girl in my arms forever, I would grow old with her, I would fight with her, but most importantly I would be there for her.

She leaned back on my chest, listening to the steady beat of my heart. I wish this moment would never end I thought to myself.

We were laying on a mattress in the bed of my pick-up truck out in one of the many fields around our hometown. We laid there together, huddled under blankets and warm sweatshirts as we looked up at the stars together.

Suddenly she sat up, “Do you see those?” she was pointing at two very bright stars huddled together. “Those are ours.” At that I pulled her down for a light kiss. She ran her fingers through my hair, ruffling it.

She was perfect in every way, from her light brown hair, her brilliant blue eyes and adorable little smile to how she could never find her sunglasses when they are sitting right on top of her head and the way she needed to ask for my help to reach things on the higher shelves.

The one problem was I knew this moment would not last forever, it would end soon enough. Tomorrow she has to leave to go to university on the other side of the country.

We laid there cuddling for another hour or so before we had to go. I had a long night planned for our last.

I let her drive into town upon her request, enjoying watching the last time I’d see her face light up as she revved the engine and plowed through these fields for a long while. We stopped at Starbucks where I bought her her favourite drink, a salted caramel mocha frappacino with extra whipped cream. The barista, a close friend of mine, had kept the store open late just for us, and as he handed her her drink he also gave her a large bouquet of flowers which I’d dropped off earlier. I received a warm hug followed by a kiss on the cheek once we exited the store.

Next we drove up to our old high school. My favourite teacher, Mr. Chance, had lent me his keys so we could get into the school. We snuck through the dark, empty, deserted halls, I led her to B206 “This is the class I first met you in two years ago.” I said as she opened the door.

The room was bare except in the center of it stood a table and two chairs, I pulled out her seat for her like the gentleman I am and assured her I’d be right back.

She looked so happy as a smile spread from ear to ear while I lit a candle and brought out a large plate of spaghetti for each of us. This is her favourite meal; her grandmother even gave me the family recipe after she’d heard my plan for the evening so it would be perfect.

I sat down across from her, her eyes glittering blue, they reminded me of the sea when I saw them. What a sight we must have been, two teenagers dressed in old worn out hoodies eating spaghetti by candlelight in a school at 1am. But for us, it couldn’t have been more perfect

Again, another moment I wished would never end.

We spent hours in the classroom, eating laughing, talking, kissing but as the time neared 5am we packed up and left the school hand in hand.

She had everything already packed so we quickly put everything into the bed of my truck and drove to the station. Rain had began to lightly fall.

Like the rain as we drove the tears came. I loved this girl with all my heart and there was no one in my eyes other than her, she was truly my everything.

* * *

As the train pulled out of the station that day I ran along side it holding her hand, and only let go when I reached the end of the platform.

I would see her soon, I knew it.

That night I was laying on the roof of my house looking up at “our stars” when my parents called me downstairs, they were both crying. Unsure of what was going on I tried to comfort them. But before I reached them, I froze. The headline on the news read “Icy tracks result in deadly train crash.”

Everything fell away. I was alone. Moments turned to minutes as minutes turned to hours and hours turned to lifetimes. My life had no center anymore. She was gone. I would never see her again, never run my fingers through her hair, or feel her warm skin against my own, never look into her beautiful eyes, never kiss her again, and worst of all, never tell her I loved her one last time. Not even a goodbye.

I ran, I ran for what seemed like an eternity. That was when the tears overwhelmed me as I sank to the ground. Yelling, screaming, crying, calling.

The next few days were a blur, nothing mattered to me. My friends and family were constantly trying to comfort me. I skipped school all week, along with soccer. Eventually my phone stopped ringing, and everyone let me mourn over her on my own. I barely ate, barely slept; all I really did was stay in my room. My mother would check in on me every few hours but never said a word. They were going to wait until I was ready to talk.

On the ninth day I barricaded my door shut, my mother knocked on it for hours, desperately urging me to open the door until my father had finally broken. He brought out a large axe from his job at the fire department and swung.

* * *

Your husband continues to swing the axe, you begin to cry, unsure of what you’ll find on the inside. Finally your husband is able to push open your son’s door. It’s been a hard week for him, his girlfriend died; she was the most important person in the world to him.

The door is almost open and you squeeze past him to get inside. You sink to the ground. A mother would do anything for their children; they would lay their lives down. And you just lost yours.

You see his body laying lifelessly on his bed between the tears streaming down your face. You feel arms wrap around you, it’s your husband. He too, is crying.

There’s something in your son’s hand, a note. You must know what his final words were. Shakily you get up and stumble over to him. Your breath is uneven and raspy as you bring the thin piece of paper up to your face to read. How will you move on from this? He was only eight-teen. You wipe away the tears on your face just long enough to read the note before they quickly return. It says:

“Every time I look up at the stars

I remember which ones she said were ours”