You Left Me On A Train

• Molly Power, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2015

I wish you were here. I wish that letter had never come, and that you’d never gotten on that train. I wish I could see your stupid smile again, I wish I could hear your laugh. That laugh that wraps me up in a blissful elation and sends me to a galaxy far, far away. I wish you could brush your hand against mine one more time like when you grab the popcorn from me on movie night. I wish I could listen to you talk, even if you are talking about Alex again. I wish you could show me one of your sketches, I wish I could just see you. I wish I could have been there for you like you were for me, and I wish I hadn’t been such a bad friend. I wish I could have said something when you were trying not to let anyone hear you cry under the stairs, behind the janitor’s trolley. I wish I had done something whenever the teachers ignored your pleas for help. I wish I had believed you when you told me that Meg had whispered in your ear the viscous, poison tongued things she did. I wish you hadn’t been so sad. I wish I could tell you you’ll be alright and comb my fingers through your cascade of curly hair.
I wish that I hadn’t screwed it up so much.
I wish you hadn't landed that scholarship for the art school, I don’t care if it’s cruel to say it. I miss you! I miss the way your eyes lit up when you heard our song. I miss how your lips curved and bent around every word you spoke. I miss the way you walked, one foot in front of the other with a bounce up the stairs to the art class. I miss how you never had to say something directly, all it took was a look and a purse of the lips and I knew exactly what you were thinking. I miss how you'd sigh when I annoyed you, I did it on purpose just to hear you sigh like a summer wind.
'Lucas, your tomfoolery isn't needed.' I miss how you always said that when I did something stupid. I miss how you wouldn't talk when you were focused on your art. I miss the way your paint stained hands danced across the page when you sketched a flower on the walk home and I had to wait for you in the heat of the afternoon sun. I miss how your brush put magic onto a canvas and your paintings sang out ‘BEAUTY IS AROUND YOU’.
I miss you so, so much.
But mostly I regret.
I regret not saying congratulations, and I regret ignoring the fact your acceptance to the art school was inevitable. I regret not taking you to the park to draw more often. I regret not telling you the truth, and I regret not saying goodbye. I regret not going to the train station with you, I regret not being a better friend to you and I regret not saying everything I wanted to. I wanted to tell you that I live for the ethereal moment you say hello, that your greatest piece of art was you. I wanted you to know that I always thought the way you danced was stupidly adorable, and that everything about you was perfect to me, even the bits of you that weren't. But it’s too late, you’re gone now. I just hope you’re happier without me. Goodbye. I love you more than ever.