Swing or miss, I fire the same bullet into my skull thinking that she is all that I have to work for. Whenever I show up at school, I sit through my lectures, shying away and crying on the inside. I pluck on the strings of a heartbeat, my very own heartbeat, hoping that one day I'll be able to hear the echoes of Shae Harbor's heartbeat in return.
Honestly, I wish that I could just close my eyes forever. If only I could, I would travel back to that place within my dreams where I finally got to know Shae Harbor.
Overall, the only things that I’ve safeguarded were the things that I love. Everything that I ever wanted was just a date or something with the girl of my dreams.
Now at this point in time, I’m standing besides Molly Trish and Sandy Warmouth at my locker, grabbing my books for the next class with Mr. Biscoff. I don't really conversate with them often, nor do I speak in class with any girls that aren't Shae Harbor.
The only sad thing about Waterfront is that I didn’t share any classes with Shae Harbor. Not even one before she died.
I have an alter in my room in dedication to Shae Harbor. That's because she was a girl that I loved, who had died in a car accident, and ever since then I haven't spoken to any other girl rather than my mother or a family member.
It has candles and photos of her that I cut out of yearbooks with scissors. Also, I write letters to her and then burn them as a ritual for what I hope will one day bring her back.
My father is a religious man, but after all, all he ever talks about is Jesus Christ and the morals of the book. I only listen to him because he tells me that one day I may be able to see Shae Harbor once again. A paradise, or rather a heaven that I've been looking into.
None of the story about Jesus Christ on Earth pertains to her death. She died in a car accident when her drunken father was bringing her home from swimming. She had a house across the highway. If only I was old enough back then, and had I known of such an importance, I would've just kidnapped her and made her my own.
That may sound weird, but in reality Shae Harbor and I are the same age. Sometimes I draw sketches of my black and white woman of long ago. She never looks well in them because I suck at drawing, but I burn the pictures of her that I draw anyway. No artist on Earth could match her beauty with a pencil or a brush.
Shae Harbor is the love of my life, but my father wants to keep pushing me towards the following of a man named Jesus Christ. I read the book that he gave to me, but most of the time, I just ignore the parts that speak about Jesus. It sounds like he was a man who had tried cursing the words with manslaughter before his death, or rather somebody else exalted him in such a way to make the reader believe in a thing like Armageddon.
I'm not worried at all, but my father is a hypochondriac when it comes to biblical teaching. He threatens me kindly in such a way that even though I have done nothing wrong, he says that he'll miss me if I don't go to the Kingdom Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses with him. Miss me in such a way that, he'll survive, but people like Shae Harbor and I would be considered secondary options. I'm not one to say that I hate them, but every once in awhile, its like my inner self begs for my father back too.
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