The Fall, 12/12/16

By Y KC

After transferring to a new high school in Louisiana, Jane meets Michael - a very complex individual, who seems to understand her thoughts and curiosities like nobody she has ever known. She finds herself falling for him despite her ever popular classmate Taylor's unexpected pursuit of her.

He has been doing his job for centuries. He listens. He helps. He comforts. But nobody has ever put a smile on his face until . . . .

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Dec 9, 2016
• ISBN: 9781365598531

Book preview

The Fall, 12/12/16

The Fall

By YKC

For C.K.

Our life

Our world

Our everything

Copyright © 2017 by YKC

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

First Printing: 2016

ISBN: 978-1-365-65557-9 & 978-1-365-59853-1

Chapter one

It is over . . . .  

His words wiped the blossoming smile off my face.  I was dumbfounded.  Everything around me stopped.  The only thing I could feel was the echo of his last word out of his perfectly proportioned face.  Suddenly, I felt tears welling up in my eyes.  I felt as though I could not control my own body, which started to shake slightly.  I was speechless before his words as if his words solidified and yanked my tongue right out of my mouth.  He had told me he loved me for the first time just a few days ago, so why was he killing me with such cruel words now?  I tried to decipher the meaning of his words.  Perhaps, looking at his face might have helped, but my body sat there motionless, unable to lift my head in fear of what I might see.

It is over . . . .  

He repeated again as if he was trying to remind me or perhaps to hurt me further.  I had heard him the first time.  That was plenty.  There was no reason to repeat such awful words again.  I wanted to physically cover his mouth and yell ‘enough!’ but I didn’t.  I couldn’t.  I knew in my heart somehow, nothing I would do would matter at that point.  Mike was a kind soul or he had been up to that point. He had always picked his words and actions so carefully as if he was a person with limited time on earth.  He was ever so careful about what kind of words and gestures he would leave as his marks.  He was an amazingly insightful person.  I just knew he would never utter something that he did not mean to be indelible.  He must have meant every single word.  I knew.

Through my peripheral vision, I could see people gathering up in the parking lot.  I had one question in my heart though.  I wondered why Mike picked this time of the day to tell me.  Was he being insidious?  It was a Friday afternoon.  We had a graduation scheduled the next day – the graduation Mike was to be a part of.  Mike was quiet all this week, but nothing unusual.  Or was there . . . ?  What did I miss?  What did I not catch?  I re-winded my internal clock to the time when he had told me he had loved me.  My heart still felt the sensation of his words that traveled from my heart to the end of my fingertips.  I attempted to track back my actions from that moment, but to no avail.  The only thing I could remember was how he had made me feel then and made me feel now.  Two terrible extremes.  So far away from each other. 

He revved his car engine.  His car quietly moved out of the parking lot.  His car moved around small groups of people with serpent like agility and we were out of the parking lot in no time.  I could see yellow buses in front of our school, but that meant nothing to me.  If all those buses floated in the air, I could not have cared less.  I was selfishly in tuned with my pain only.  I did not see bright colors; I only saw grey silhouettes. 

This was a beautiful May day in Louisiana – very dry for a change.  It was the kind of the day I’d ask Mike for a walk, and he would just smile and nod to my words.  That was easy.  This was hard.  I could ask him, but that was not on our agenda today.  I desperately wanted to ask him why, but my fear of his possible answers scared me to death.  What if it was something that I couldn’t change?  What if he did not want the stars from the sky and the moon did not impress him?  Was I not good enough for him?  Was I too ugly for him?  Was I not interesting to him?  Was he bothered by my simple being?  His white satiny smooth skin was still throughout the ride and gave away nothing.  A perfect still model – as always.  He did not give out anything in his pose.  I looked ahead, and from time to time, I timidly looked at him from the side.  It was not intentional.  I was unable to look at him with my free will because I was frightened.  It was just that I was drawn to him – as if a sunflower always looked at her Apollo - even at the moment when he was giving me this indescribable pain.  The ride was bumpy and my spineless body automatically turned towards my sun.  His face did not tilt an inch.  It was as if I wasn’t even there.  He was in a zone that belonged to him all alone.  Familiar houses showed up along the road.  We were getting near my apartment.  My heart started to cringe knowing the ride was about to end.  Even though the ride was deathly uncomfortable, I wanted it to last longer just to be with him in the same space – at least physically.  As his car got near the apartment, the pain of not knowing when I could see him again was exorbitant.  My heart ached. 

His car stopped in front of our apartment unit.  He still did not say anything.  He tapped the switch on the driver’s side to unlock the passenger’s side door.  Yellow and pleasant sun light was spreading onto the parking lot, but I felt as though I was about to walk into an icy and uncomfortable place.  Everything was white around me.  I could not discern any colors because the pain was pervasive and it devoured my senses.  I sighed slowly and opened the door reticently but quickly.  I knew my eyes were getting watery.  I wanted to stay but I had to get out quickly.  I did not want to break down in front of him.  Whatever the reason might be, it was simply that he did not want me anymore.  I would not let him pity me because of my tears.  A part of me wondered if my tears would work on him, maybe that would change his mind?  But at the same time, I somehow knew Mike had already made up his mind firmly.  I had never seen him like that and I was afraid to tap into this unchartered water.  What if he could be cruel?  Instead of pity, he could show antipathy.  What if he could kill me even further with his explanation for his rejection?  I would not and could not take any hurtful details.  Not now.  But when? 

I slowly stepped out of his car.  As soon as my two feet pretended to stay on the grey asphalt, I heard his pedaling.  And then he was gone instantly.  His engine made no noise.  Like a stealth plane – my favorite machine, but this time, I even hated the mechanism for a stealth plane.  I wished the car made some noise. It could have conveyed some sort of reluctance he was in.  No, it left without leaving any mark.  It didn’t care. He didn’t care.  The car did not convey anything for him, for me.  I wished he made some noise.  A grunt or a cough to let me know that this was hard for him too, but he didn’t.  Just like his car, he made no noise and I was left with no clue to follow.  No breadcrumbs to lead me to him.  They were completely eaten by strange birds. 

I dragged my body to the front door.  I – well, my fingers - automatically found the house keys in my book sack.  It hurt to oddly bend my arm backward to dig the key out of my bag that was hanging on my back, but at the same time, I did not care as my body only focused on one kind of pain.  When I opened the door and walked in, I was relieved to find nobody was at home.  I took off my sandals and I dragged my body into my bedroom.  I was not sure if I closed the front door, but that was not important.  I had to retreat – as soon as possible before anyone found me this wounded.  I was not sure how I was able to move forward, but I was doing it somehow.  Good job, Jane.  It was quite amazing that I was walking given what I had just experienced.  One foot first and then next.  Thank goodness for automatism.  I quietly closed the bedroom door behind me.  I did not lock the door.  I was afraid that would alarm my attentive mom if she would try to open the door.  I sighed again.  I felt a sense of achievement in the midst of my agony.  I was able to make it to my room without breaking down.  I reopened the door, just a little not to alarm my attentive mom.  I hung my book sack on the outside door knob hoping that would give me enough time to re-paint my facial expression if she did indeed come in.  I sat on my bed then slowly rolled my body into a fetal position as I softly fell onto the mattress.  As a child, I had suffered a severe case of motion sickness.  Whenever my family had traveled in a car, I had forced myself to sleep.  It had been the best way to ease my motion sickness.  This was no exception.  I put my right hand onto my chest as if to grab my heart and appease it.  I forced myself to sleep.  It was the best way to relieve my pain, at least for now.  After that?  I did not know.

Jane?  I heard a familiar and friendly voice over the door, but not the voice I wanted to hear. 

You should get up.  You won’t be able to fall asleep later and you should eat if you want to sleep thoroughly.  It was my mom. 

I am up, mom.  I said loud enough for her to hear me from outside of my room although I was not sure if she was still outside of my door.  She may have moved into the kitchen.  I slowly opened my eyes and I was glad to find it was getting darker outside.  Nobody would be able to see my worn-out face.  I got up and sat on my bed, but I felt like I was missing something.  I looked around to see what I was missing.  Did I leave a book at school?  Did I leave my favorite pen out of my sight?  Then I realized what I was missing.  I no longer had what I had just hours ago.  Mike was no longer mine.  I could no longer call him.  I could no longer ask him to come over to hang out.  I could no longer put my hand into his.  I could no longer send him random text messages.  I could no longer sketch his beautiful face.  I could no longer put my lips on his as he melted me in his arms.  My heart cringed.  I realized that it was no nightmare.  It was very much a reality that was worse than a nightmare.  It felt like hell.  I felt like spitting out a bad word. 

I looked forward to the time after dinner.  Maybe I could cry then.  It would make me feel better, I hoped, but I knew that I was being too hopeful.  It just felt so awful and I knew it was only going to get worse.  Each moment would remind me of the fact I could no longer be with him.  But I wanted to.  I desperately wanted to be with him.

I barely ate mom’s homemade dinner.  Dad was out with his military buddies and Alan was pre-celebrating his graduation.  It was just me and my petite mom, who always made too much food for me to consume.  I had told her my period started.  She looked worried because I was early by a few days (she was always anxious about those things), but that was a good excuse to head back to my room without chatting with her about the last day of school, about the last day with Mike.  I would tell her later, but not now – I thought to myself.

After dinner, I brushed my teeth and walked into my bedroom.  This time, I was not as fortunate as earlier.  I couldn’t force myself to sleep and I couldn’t think of anything but this afternoon.  Mike spoke his words in less than three seconds, but I analyzed that three seconds in three hundred ways.  Could I have said something?  Could I have prevented this from happening?  Could he mean anything else but what I thought they meant?  Was he kidding?  Was this April Fool’s Day?  Was he playing a joke on me?  Did I do something to deserve this?  What did I do?  Could I revisit the moment?  Could I have done something differently?  I knew I couldn’t turn back the time.  My heart ached terribly. 

I still remembered how I had felt when he had told me he loved me.  I still remembered his beautiful blue eyes as he spoke those beautiful words.  He sounded uneasy, almost timid.  It was as if he had never spoken those three words before.  And my heart had jumped out of my skin.  I had been so happy.  I had not known how else to feel but to feel completely happy. 

We were sitting in his dining room at the big beautiful dining table.  It was white and with a soft top that did not hurt my hand when I was writing on it.  It was one of my favorite fixtures in his house.  I was working on a geometry problem.  This theorem and that theorem.  I was only half as productive when I studied with Mike, but sitting in the dining room with sun light hitting his poreless skin was worth the extra time of studying.  After each step of solving the problem, I peeked over at him to just look at him.  His blond hair fell softly over his defined cheek bones.  His hair was so fine – each strand was like an Asian translucent paper, I could see his pale blue eyes right through it.  His blue eyes were wrapped around by his impossibly long light brown eye lashes.  I wondered why I had not noticed all those things when I had first met him. Yeah, he had not acted very likable at that time.  Our first meeting brought a small smirk on my face.

He was frowning a bit – something he did when he was intrigued by something he was reading.  I smiled.  He was adorable when he was not acting like a hundred years old man.  He frowned when something did not make sense to him or something was fresh to him.  Mike was reading something – never a school text book or his notes.  He was – I thought – reading The Good Earth or was he reading it the day before?  I could not remember whether he had finished the book or not.  He read insatiably, mostly fictions though.  After peeking at him conspicuously and continuously, I at last looked back down at my geometry problem.  Perhaps, I could finish this one problem without looking at him again.  Before I could concentrate again, he whispered hesitantly over the table.  It was his turn to look at me, but not so inconspicuously on his part. 

I love you, Jane. 

My pencil fell out of my hand and landed on my notebook, but I could not hear it landing.  I looked up - excited. 

D-did you say something?  I did not know what to say; I pretended I had not heard him.  Did he really say those words?  I wanted to be sure.

His eyes fluttered as he put his book on the table.  He looked like a child who was lost.  I sighed.  I almost felt badly for my raw acting, but I simply wanted to hear him say those words again.  Was I too selfish?

I said that, that I love you, Jane.  He said it more decisively this time.  I looked at him as my eyes widened with pure joy and happiness.  A small smile came to my mouth and it blossomed.  I could not say anything.  My heart jumped and melted at the same time.  He was the first thing and the last thing on my mind every day.  Often, I could not believe how happy I was to have him look at me in his car or in classrooms the same way I looked at him.  Then I realized what that great feeling was. 

Say something, Jane.  He pleaded.

Mike looked at me desperately.  I could not respond.  I sat there and looked at him with my wide eyes.  So it was that.  This was what I was feeling.  He took my feelings out of my heart and put them onto his perfect lips.

D-did I say something bad? 

The god-like creature spoke insecurely, not realizing I was being saturated with joy because of his three words.  He nervously put his hands on top of his book sitting on the shiny white table.  He reached out towards my hand, and then he stopped.  Instead of continuing his reach, he retracted his hands back to where they were.  I could see veins in his white skin.  He looked down lethargically.  He grimaced.

Mike.

I reached out and put my hand on his tightly closed hand.  Even on a spring day, his hand felt cool to my touch.  He looked up.  His blue eyes shifted and fixated onto my mouth, desperately waiting for my response.  Cool breeze came and touched my cheeks. Then I spoke.  I could not stand to watch him in pain even though that pain had no foundation. 

I love you, too.

Of course, I loved him.  I could not believe he doubted my feelings towards him.  Wasn’t it obvious that I was crazy about him?  Oh, how could he not know that?  He was deathly oblivious. 

He got off his chair.  He was smiling with his teeth showing.  That was a rare sight, but it was my favorite smile and his best smile.  He was not just moving his muscles on his face.  He was actually happy when he gave out that rare smile.  I was overjoyed.  He glided away from his side of the table and came towards me.  He effortlessly leaned towards me and kissed me passionately.  It was different from his other kisses which were always calm and controlled.  His kiss was exciting and captivating.  Good bye, Geometry. 

Even the thought of his three simple words still made me happy and then, I remembered his other three words.  My reverie ended abruptly.  I was no longer happy.  I was not even content.  I was more than miserable.  I was devastated.  My head started to hurt again.  Was this how it felt like having a migraine headache?  Could I have said something?  Did I do something?  What did I do?  Had he said he did not love me anymore before today?  Why?  I felt like my heart was about to burst open.  I grabbed my bed sheet and shoved some into my mouth.  Oppressed and controlled shrill echoed in my room.  I felt suffocated, but not because of the bed sheet, because I now lacked him in my seconds, minutes, hours, days, and life.  Why?  But did I?  He did not say he didn’t love me anymore.  Maybe he still loved me.   Maybe there was some reason he had to break up with me.  Perhaps he had to leave after the graduation and he wanted to break it off with me to set me free.  But then Mike must have known that I loved him more than anything.  I would have followed him anywhere.  I loved him simply more than my life.  He did not have to break it off before he had to leave for a lesser place.  I could have gone anywhere with him.  I would have gotten three jobs to support ourselves.  I would have given up on going to New York City to pursue my education.  I would have bagged groceries to put food on our table.  I did not need anything but him.  I did not need any material things but his three beautiful words.  I.  Love.  You. 

The day after, I went to the graduation with my family.  My mom and dad were there to see Alan graduate, and I was there to see Mike.  I could not recall how the day went by.  I thought I saw Alan’s name being called; I vaguely remembered.  Then, Mike’s name was being called.  My heart started to beat really fast and my mouth became dried.  From where I was sitting, I could not make him out clearly, but I thought it was him.  The figure stood tall and walked toward the podium.  It felt infinitely slow and painfully fast at the same time.  The figure received his diploma and he went back to his chair – dissipated among other graduates. 

Mom, I am going to the restroom.

Okay.  My mom answered quickly.  She was trying to focus on Alan using our new digital recorder.

I got up and slowly walked towards the side aisle.  My knee bumped into an old man who was sitting at the end of the aisle.  I am sorry, Sir.  I turned around to see if he was okay and reflectively, I looked towards the front to see if anyone noticed my clumsiness.  A pair of eye were looking at me – eyes that felt so cold and distant.  I pursed my lips.  I quickly turned my head back and walked into the back of the auditorium, into the darkness.  My legs felt weak, but I knew I had to move onto something, somehow.  I could not stay there and allow him to pity me, my weakness.  When I got to the door, I had to squeeze all the strength in my right arm to open it.  After I got out of the auditorium, I sluggishly walked towards outside to get some air.

I opened my eyes.  I did not know how many days passed since I had last seen him.  Thank God for the summer vacation.  I did not have to wake up.  I did not have to wash my face.  I did not have to eat regularly although my mom seemed very concerned and that forced me to eat sometimes.  Most of all, I did not have to live.  I did not know what time it was.  I turned my head to the side.  Moving my body piece by piece, it felt like it was the first time I was moving my body parts.  I felt like I was made of pieces of metal as my body arts felt uncomfortable and unnatural.  I anticipated metal cracking sounds, but I didn’t hear any.  I first had complained about the thick curtain my mom had put in my room after our move.  But after realizing it was three o’clock in the afternoon by looking at the clock on my side table, I knew my mom had made the right choice.  It was good to have the curtain that kept all the light out.  I turned my head back.  Because my body felt so heavy, I put my arms on my side to push myself up.  I wondered which day it was.  I felt the urge to just sink down into my bed again, but knowing my mom could walk into the door with that look that instantly made me guilty, I had to get up.  I knew the talk was coming, and I knew I was not ready to reveal how torn my heart was – not even to my