I Wish I Could Say Congratulations

• Sofia Leary, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2022

Grief isn't the word I'd use to describe how I'm feeling. Grief is the act of losing something you had.

I wish I could genuinely say congratulations and how happy I am on her behalf. I wish I were jumping with joy with my arms wrapped around her in a tight hug. When we all gathered around her as she opened the small manila letter, it seemed as if time itself stood still. I was begging and praying in my mind for her to get in, to follow the pathway of her dreams.

Until the letter was opened.

It felt as if the world itself had imploded. Her eyes opened wide with tears of joy streaming down, as if the starry night sky itself was spilling waves of blue.

Then, time stood still.

I wanted to scream and cry out through the seas of smiles and cheers. Confetti poppers went off with showers of gold. I couldn’t hear any of it, only see their lips moving in slow motion. I would only hear her joyous laughter and the feeling of her arms constricting around me, pressing us together. I feel guilty, in all honesty. She is achieving her dream; how could I be selfish? Maybe I am jealous. I don’t want to be. What could I say to her? That I’m happy for her? I am, but it would feel like a half-hearted lie. I tried my best not to cry, I truly did. I’m glad she took it as tears of joy. I’d hate to upset her, especially right now of all times. The tears of so-called joy flooded out fast. I just flashed her a wide smile and held her even tighter.

She left the letter in the kitchen as they brought out the cake to take it to the nearby room. I wish I hadn’t read it. I just had to read it myself, read the letter that I missed out on. “Congratulations! I am delighted to inform you...” I couldn't bear to read on. Even the first two lines stabbed into me like rusty nails, digging out my heart with each clawing sensation. Supposedly, the reserve list is long this year. It is unspoken knowledge that anyone who gets on that list has no chance of ever grazing past those gates, even I. Such a prestigious school, I doubt anyone who even had the privilege of getting in would deny that opportunity.

We were meant to go there together. That was our plan. To hold each other’s hands through it all.

Maybe I am grieving.

Her arms weaved around me from behind. I turned around and hugged her as tight as I could, burying my face in her shoulder. I wanted to say so many things; beg her not to leave, to stay with me. All I could mutter was a small “Congratulations.” Her eyes shone with excitement. “Soon you’ll get your letter, and we can go together!” I won't tell her yet, I just can't. Instead, I just nod my head.