You Were Mine

• Stacey Chan, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2015

You were mine.

That is, until you forgot. Forgot about the memories we shared together - those tiny, seemingly insignificant moments. Forgot the electric of our touch - the way my skin tingled when your hand brushed mine. Until you forgot who I was; until you forgot us.
When I met you, you clearly stood out from the tedious crowd; your masculine features dominated the other men, you had a face made from heaven and your body was perfectly toned. I watched you jog to the beach to coach the young surfers. I watched you everyday.
I remember the warmth of your touch. I remember your beautiful face, awaking in the morning. I remember the sweet scent of your Calvin Klein perfume. I remember the pasta sauce dripping from your soft lips. I remember listening close to the faint music playing in your earphones. I remember your laughter, the sound of blissful angels. You were perfect - absolutely perfect. Every time I saw you, I felt as if the whole world didn't matter anymore. I felt as if all my problems just disappeared. I felt that you were the one - the only one - that could understand me.

I loved you.

You were mine and mine only.

One day you met a girl.
She was cute but she was too slim. You talked to her a lot then you exchanged phone numbers. You started dressing more carefully and you switched your perfume with a more expensive brand. You did your hair and checked the mirror more often. Everyday you were with her. Everyday.
It was when you kissed her that I lost control. I wanted to get rid of her. I wanted her to be gone and out of your life. I wanted her dead.
You were mine. You were only mine.
It was me that slipped the needle into her smoked salmon. It was me that sent her to the hospital in critical condition. It was me that almost killed her, for you.
The following days were quite normal. You visited her often but you still went to work. I confronted you one morning. I didn't want people like her to intrude on us again. Said you recognized me. Asked me why I was following you and watching you. I said you were mine. I told you I loved you and that I missed you. I told you to stop seeing her. I told you to stay with me.
You dismissed my words and interrogated me aggressively. You called me a stalker. You called me a freak. You called me insane.

You threatened to throw me back into the asylum.

You were supposed to understand.

I cried angry tears as I watched you - for the last time - walk away from me. I felt betrayed and isolated. I loved you.

You were mine.