Fiction Fun: A Short Story

Ana Bacchi, staff writer

     I checked my phone, and it was midnight. I had to get home. It was raining. I couldn’t stand under the tree anymore. It was clear that she wanted nothing to do with me. I picked up my backpack and the drawing I drew for her. We weren’t friends anymore, she made that clear. 

     I checked my phone again, 12:05 it read. I looked around one more time clinging on to hope. Nope. She didn’t come. Oh well, what could I do? I looked at the sky begging it to stop pouring. Just trying to reason with it so I could stay dry. But just like my feelings, it was hurt and didn’t want to give in. I ran. Fast.

     By the time I got home, my parents were asleep due to it being really late. My brother was up though. He looked me up and down, and judging how wet my clothes were, I realized there was no way I could get out of this. 

     “Where have you been? Just because it’s a Friday night doesn’t mean you just can’t come home,” he said not breaking eye contact. 

     “I was trying to see if Dana still wanted to be friends. She was busy, and said she would meet me under the tree a bit late,” I said almost forgetting to breathe while fighting tears. “I wanted four hours.”

     “I’m sorry Katy,” his eyes now more sympathetic, “but you can’t just come back home at one in the morning and expect it to be okay.”

     “Then what are you still doing up?” I said trying to end the conversation. It worked.

      He looked at me, and smiled, “Ok, just get to bed.”

     I smiled back, and raced up the stairs. Skipping a few steps. Of course I was gonna go to bed, but first I needed to make a call. I struggled to quickly put my pajamas on. I vigorously brushed my hair. Then brushed my teeth quickly, which makes me think I didn’t do it right. I hopped into my bed, but almost instantly sprang back up. How could I face her after what I did? She needed a friend and I wasn’t there. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I turned off my bedroom lights as I heard my brother come up the stairs. I went to my bathroom and looked at my phone. I stared at it for a while, till I couldn’t bear it anymore. I clicked “call”. It rang.

    “Hello?” someone said in a very tired voice. I should’ve thought it through some more before I called her in the middle of the night. I should’ve thought about it more before calling her at all.

     “Hi Dana. It’s me, Katy Grene,” I held my breath, waiting for her to hang up. I felt a bit nauseous. 

     “Oh,” she responded in a voice now fully awake and full of disappointment.

     “I’m sorry Dana. I should’ve been there for you. I just thought you didn’t want to deal with me. I’m sorry.”

     “Didn’t want to deal with you? My mother almost died. Random people I didn’t even know, students, teachers–they all came to me to see if I was ok. What did my best friend do? Pretend I wasn’t even there. There’s nothing you can do about that now.”

     “I know there’s nothing I can do about the past,” the room was now spinning. Every word that came out made me feel more sick. “Now I only ask for forgiveness. That’s all I can do.” 

     She didn’t have time to answer. Right there I couldn’t take it anymore. Tears of pain came rushing out. My stomach turned upside down. I dropped the phone. I could hear a faint voice from the phone. I don’t know what it said. My brother rushed in. I couldn’t feel my head, yet it was so heavy. I was carried out. Lights everywhere. Then black, nothing but black.