Forget Me Not

I felt bored that day. Everyone else around me wore the grey uniform we were supposed to always wear. The blue-painted room bounced on the buzzing fluorescent lights.

I was the oldest in this room, I remembered.

I walked in circles, carefully supervising the junior high schoolers, whilst their teacher was absent at the moment.

The room was quiet, save for some students who raised their hands to ask me questions regarding what they were answering on their school books.

The grey clouds outside and the pouring rain made the day seem so gloomier.

The yellow sweater I wore made me stand out like a sore thumb. A dyed sheep coloured yellow amongst sheared sheep.

The grey day made me feel lazy and drugged with melatonin.

I don’t remember the time anymore.

And when I heard the classroom door slide open and close, I whipped my head to look. I brushed my curls away from my eyes.

And I looked.

I saw the most saddest looking girl I have ever seen.

She was soaked and shivering. Her eyes were red and droopy, and there was no hope in her face. She had the eyes of a dead fish—blank and lifeless.

She sniffled and rubbed her nose with her damp sleeve.

Every step she took made puddles, and her classmates didn’t notice or bat an eye to her, as if this was a normal, everyday occurrence.

She finally stops by an empty desk, and she sits on the desk alone.

I hesitantly made my way to her and settled myself on the chair that she refused to sit on.

Her head slowly turned towards me and I gave her a smile.

Her mouth becomes slightly agape and an inaudible gasp leaves her.

The fact that I was able to elicit a reaction out of her made me internally sigh in relief. The dead expression on her face disappeared.

“Where were you? You’re soaked.” I ask in a low whisper.

I never knew who this girl was, but my question made her eyes flicker in disbelief.

“Miss Janice personally told me to get her a coffee from Starbucks.” She whispers back.

I snickered, “Are you her favourite?”

A small smile stretches on her lips. “I never put it that way before.” Her eyes stay on my hair and her smile becomes wavy. “Who are you again?”

“Daniel.” I immediately told her. I didn’t hesitate.

“Star Bell.” She told me hers.

“What a romantic name.” I told her softly.

“I’d rather be called Star, more easier and unique to remember. It fits my last name too, don't you think?” She shares.

I turned my head to look at the other students, and none seems to have trouble with their work at the moment. The classroom still stayed quiet.

“Clara Bell, is she your sister?” I asked Star.

And her face falls in sadness at the mention of her sister.

Star looks at the other end of the classroom where her sister sat at her own desk. “....yeah.”

I never knew that the oh-so-famous Clara Bell had a sister. Clara was titled the Queen-Bee for the junior high schoolers, and every single move she did, everybody would be crazy over it.

I felt guilty. Star must have been overlooked by her peers.

“You should get back to work.” I told her, referring to her school work.

“I did advanced work.” She shook her head.

Star looks at the rain that pattered and tapped on the window panes.

I spoke up first, “It’ll rain more tonight.”

“Dreamy night to dance under the lamppost and rain with a lover.” She says melancholy.

“A romantic name and a romantic mindset too.” I pointed out.

She shoots me a toothy grin. “A slow dance too.” She adds.

“Oh, the dream.” I sighed. “Who will you be dancing with?” I asked her.

“I don’t want to.” She answers me after a silent moment.

“No, then.” I slouched against the desk.

She looked at me quizzically. “What?”

“The most romantic person I knew rejected me before I could even ask her for a dance.” I point out glumly.

Star only holds back a laugh, and at that time, I could feel my heart grow warm.

“Aren’t you cold?” I asked her.

“I’ll be okay, Hooky.” She told me, and I was intrigued.

I was left to wonder and regret that I found a gem on a day like this.

“What other romantic fantasies do you cook in your cauldron?” I paused, and then cringed. ’I–I’m sorry, God, that was disgusting–” Did I make it obvious that I wanted to keep talking to her?

She slaps a hand to her mouth to mute her laughter. Her damp, dark locks shook and dripped with rain water as her shoulders shook.

“I made a list.” She says after a while.

She stops.

Pauses.

And she hesitates.

“My locker number is 143, and the code is 1423.” She told me.

I looked at her in disbelief.

I tried to think of reasons why she told me something so personal as a locker code.

She sees me looking at her in disbelief, and she smiles softly.

And my stomach tickles.

“There will be a pink notebook inside. The letters inside are meant for no one else but me.” She confesses. “But I think it will be nice for someone else to read it.”

I only stuttered, “I’m honoured.”

“Thank the Star for giving you ideas when you find that special person one day.”

But I already found you today.

“A lucky Star.” I chuckled back to myself.

“Take care of my letters, will you?” She told me.

“I promise to guard them with my life and take every single word in them to heart.” I told her.

She smiles at my words.

She must’ve thought I was joking that time.

But in reality, I was truly being sincere.

“Promise? Not prom?” She questions me playfully.

I didn’t understand at that time.

“Prom—you promise, but not really.” She explains it to me.

I shook my head. “It’s a wholehearted promise.” I assured her coolly.

“And to your request for a dance, I don’t think I really can.” She added.

I scoffed, “Nonsense, everyone can dance.”

I was desperate. “I’ll even let you just step on my shoes.”

“Oh, your poor shoes.” She croons.

It was a strange wonder as to why no one in the room has looked at our way yet, scolding us to be more quiet when we only have been talking. I found it strange, but I ignored it all.

“What could be in your letters?” I asked her.

“Oh,” She flicks her wrist. “Love letters meant for no one.”

I asked, “So….romantic ramblings in the form of letters?”

“I keep them here. At school. If Clara found them, she’ll think of me as a––” Star leans her face closer to mine, and my heart stops.

Her eyes study my face, and her corpse eyes are gone, now replaced with fondness and life.

The way she looked at me made me want to hold her hand.

The way she made me feel was too good to make up in my head.

“A what?” I pushed a smile though.

I played it cool.

“A w-h-o-r-e.” She says, a sad bitter smile plays on her lips.

I shake my head. “But it’s an art style.” I defended her.

“Girls like Clara-dear won’t understand.” Star wistfully stares at her busy sister at the other side of the room. “She’s in her own world.”

“And I’m in yours.” I said to her, “Thank you.” I fell silent. “It’s a wonderful world.”

“I didn’t see your passport on the way in.” She plays with me.

I shrugged, “So what if I sneaked in?”

“I can’t do anything about it.” She grins. “Enjoy your stay.

I want to enjoy everything else with you.

“What a nice host.” I commented.

“I’m always nice.” She retorted softly.

“Then stop hiding.” I bit my tongue, regretting my words.

“I can’t.” She tells me. “Girls like Clara will only push you back in the cocoon when you grow wings.”

“Girls like Clara should shut up.” My annoyance towards Star’s sister grows. “She shouldn’t be doing this. Not to you.”

Not to the girl I love. Anyone but you. Please.

Disbelief and shock settles in her eyes, but it all dissipates in a moment.

Everything else is replaced then with the same fondness from earlier.

“It’s really a shame that I only met you now, Daniel.” Her words somehow sounded melancholic, and it aches my heart.

She takes my hand and kisses my knuckles softly. Her cold lips pressed against my skin, and I was in paradise.

“Can I truly trust you with my letters, Hooky?” She asks me.

“Yes.” I answered without thinking. “Until I die.”

She smiles, and kisses my knuckles for one last time.“My letters. Please. Don’t let anyone know about them. Just you.” She whispers softly.

And with that, she stands up from her desk and walks towards the door, leaving me speechless and frozen.

She turns back to face me, and she smiles brightly.

I don’t know what came over me that day, and until now, I never will know.

Tears dripped down my face, and I swore she stole my heart and broke it in one conversation.

My eyes watered, and a dam kept pouring down to my cheeks.

I could still feel my knuckles miss her kiss, and I wished I kissed her properly at that moment.

The classroom’s teacher, Miss Fields, enters the classroom, distraught and sobbing. She looked hesitant to announce something.

This takes everybody’s attention.

I stood up from Star’s desk, awaiting what Miss Fields would be saying.

“I’m so sorry,” She says shakily.

“A few moments ago,” She paused and held back a sob, “Honey Well took her own life—-”

Was this her real name?

The whole class gasps and falls silent.

“She was pronounced dead on arrival at the ER.” Miss Fields finishes. “I am so sorry for your loss, Clara.”

The entire class flocks around Clara, and for once, I could understand why Star–no, Honey felt overlooked.

I didn’t need to see Clara’s face. I can tell she’s enjoying the attention.

I was in disbelief at the news, and I shook like a leaf, refusing to accept the news.

I met her.

I talked to her.

She kissed me.

I fell in love with her.

I must've lost my mind. I ran out of the room. I have to catch up to her.

I have to.

One more time.

One last time.

Please.

God, I'm begging you, don't let her leave yet.

“Honey!!” I screamed her name at the top of her lungs, and she froze in the middle of the deserted halls.

I cupped her face, felt her cold, grey face on my hands.

Her fingers cupped my hands, and I placed my forehead on hers.

“Not you. Please. Anyone but you.” I begged.

I cried my heart out.

“Please don’t–” I said softly.

“Why now? Why now when I just—” I choked on my sobs.

“I love you—” I repeated it until she understood what I said.

“I love you, so please–PLEASE! Just come back.” I was wishing for something impossible now.

“I love you, so please come back to life.” I begged her cold soul.

“Girls like Clara won’t mistreat you anymore, I’ll make you shine like the star you’ve always wanted to be.” I promised her. “Please—please, stay with me. I love you so much…”

“Please don’t break my heart. Not like this.” I wept. “You can’t go like this.”

“If living a new life in the next is true,” She started, and I wept harder at the sound of her soft voice that I shortly came to love so much. “Then I will love you in my next life.”

“Where were you?” I referred to where she lost her life.

“At the intersection. A walk away from the Starbucks where Miss Janice told me to get her coffee.”

I had no control of my tears. I only cried harder.

This really was goodbye.

“Take care of yourself, Hooky.” She told me, and she pulled my hand away from her face.

The watery blur in my eyes made me blind.

And at the time I blinked my tears away, my love was gone.