Last Moments.

Cold, windy, and majestic.

Three words that described that day. I remember it being the first few days of spring; the flowers blooming the various colors of the rainbow, the sudden changes of the wind that blew through my dyed red hair. It wasn’t a bright red, it was a rosewood. I deeply admired the color, it went well with my pale skin and my gray eyes. I remember wearing my favorite white dress, that blew slightly up every so often. It was short -only reaching to my knees- allowing the grass to tickle my skin. The smell of nature engulfed my senses as the time, surrounding me in the blanket of its warmth.  

I waited for him, patiently. He had surprised me, by sneaking up behind me. I was so scared, that I screamed ever so slightly. I remember looking at him with a smile trying to break through. My eyes always brightened around him, he was my world, my everything.

“Julia”, he said my name in a way that made me melt on the inside. He wrapped his arms around me, and we stayed like that- no words passing between us. I felt my heart race and myself melt into his embrace. He pulled away first, cupping the sides of my face. I stared into his blue eye, lost in their serenity. “I need to tell you something”.

I looked at him with confusion, unsure of what he might say. I was terrified yet intrigued. I stayed quiet but nodded, as a way to let him continue.

He stared at me, as if trying to prolong this moment. “I’m moving”.

I tried to not hear those words. Those horrid words that seemed daunting on me.

“When?”. I was unable to say anything else, scared that I’ll end up bursting into tears.

“In two weeks”

“Where?”

“To New York”

“So what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

I knew that this was the end, these last two weeks then we’ll part ways. The first tear fell slowly, I tried to hold them back but it only made it worse. My head fell into the plums of my hands as I wept, quietly. I felt his arms hold me in his warm embrace- a place that I felt free and buoyant within. I knew these moments will now become the most precious to me, these final moments full of sorrow. We knew it was going to be hard for us, but we both had to move on with our lives. I knew what I had to say, words that I was always too scared to use, I finally needed to use them before it was too late.

“ I love you”.

My Façade 

Pretty, blond and rich.

The three things I hear constantly when people describe me. I never hear the end of it, everyone around me thinks this way, and no one ever really tries to really get to know me. They all see me for my money and nothing else. I never had a genuine friend ever.

It wasn't all this way, there was a time people actually were my friends, and not some person who liked me for my money. There was this one girl named Lynda, she was the closest I ever got to a friend. She was in my grade 6 class; we sat right next to each other.  Back then no one knew of my father’s fortune. I don’t remember exactly how it happened but when everyone found out about my Dad they all jumped to be my friend. At first I didn't care because I had Lynda. However one day Lynda started to ask for things, she would constantly ask me for money. I didn't know she was using me until she asked me to hang out one day at my house, and I caught her stealing jewellery from my parents’ room. Ever since then I stopped trying to gain friends.

Soon after that I got a reputation, I became colder and more sinister. I used my money the way I wanted and I didn't care about anything else. No one dared to argue with me, them being too afraid of what I might do to them. I was stuck up and I knew it. I always knew it.

But then there are those nights, I lay at home, by myself, as everyone else goes hangs out with people. I knew that it was hard for me to find real friends; I was always too scared of someone using me again. It was a pain, knowing that everywhere I go; I want people to have that connection with people.

Most days I want it all to end. Everyone thinks I have the perfect life, but I don’t. My parent are never home, most think this is a good thing, sometimes I think so too. But I also think it’s lonely. Never having anyone around, it becomes so lonely.

No one knows, no one understands and that’s because I'm known as the pretty, rich and blond girl.

Author's note

I wrote this short narative for english class. We were meant to take a character and show a day in their lives. She let us choose from 6 pair of shoes. I wanted to show a deeper side to character most people judge in a crude way because of their social back round. And I feel like this story really showed something more to someone in an unexpected way.