'Love looks not with eyes but with the mind'

about a girl, who goes through a journey of memories to find out the heart breaking truth.

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2. The Locket

Sitting, just sitting. Thats all she ever does now, just sits and stares at the room that will always be empty. The room didn't even look like his anymore, it had been cleaned to much, she'd clean every day she'd dust, make the un-slept bed and hover around the un-stained floor. Alex was always so messy, used to leave his clothes everywhere, leave pizza boxes and have bits of paper everywhere, but the floors where clear, his CDs stacked up neatly, posters up straight and all his clothes in his wardrobe. My mum creasing the recently made bed but holding something in her hand, I go over and sit beside her, I take her hands in mine and open them. Its his locket from when he was born, she looks up a me with her face red and puffy, opens her hands so the locket falls into my grasp. It was so hot but even the touch makes my whole body cold, she takes it back but instead of reducing to her teary outraged self, she smiles and manages to say 'He would have wanted you to have this', her arms go around my head and clasped the hot silver to my bare neck. My mum gets up and leaves the room in a slow crocked fashion and pauses at the door, gives the room one last look and leaves. 

I find my hand reach up to the locket, Alex had never let me open it on the grounds that it was where he kept his heart. It was stiff but when I opened it Alex was staring at me, his blues eyes looking at me, he is about 10, with his short brown hair flying in the invisible wind. Right next to his head is me, i remember when this photo was taken, we where in Richmond park and I had 'hurt' my foot so he gave me a piggy back, obviously my mum decides to get the camera out; we both groan but can't be bothered to argue so we allow one photo then run off. I close the locket.

I keep hold of it and walk out of the room. I don't like going into that room, it wasn't his anymore I mean his smell was still there and it was still all his stuff, but it shouldn't be there, it had been 4 months and mum still couldn't talk about it. Dad was worse though, he just worked and worked to the point he was so tired that he would go straight to bed, the last time we talked properly was the night Alex died, when I woke up in hospital. 

I lie down in bed still holding the chain, I close my eyes. My heart starts pounding, my eyes fly open, I'm in the ambulance, a woman is standing above me with a difribulator. She sighs a sound of relief, she starts talking but i can't hear her, I am to confused the women suddenly looks sad. i look left, Alex is there his shirt off with a large gash across his face, a huge bruise across he arm and the locket shaped cut around his neck and chest. I start to shake, i try to shout his name but only a scream comes out. every muscle contorts to stretch towards him, the women pushes me back against the bed, i try to fight but she is to strong. I manage to grab his hand but it was so cold i didn't hold on, i found my voice 'WHATS GOING ON! HE IS SO COLD! HELP HIM!' the women gets out a needle as i resist her whilst i scream she sticks me in the arm. I shout his name, I wake. I am crawled up in a ball so tight it hurts. 

This was the first time I had remembered this, my heart was pounding and my eyes filing with the salty tears i knew to well. Alex had saved my life at the price of his and I hated him for that. He should have lived not me! All I had left was the locket I was never meant to open.

 

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