The Path to Choose

  • by
  • Rating:
  • Published: 24 Jan 2013
  • Updated: 24 Feb 2013
  • Status: Complete
A girl named Haley has had trouble her whole life with everything. Her life only seems to be getting worse, and she doesn't know how to turn it around. Will she turn it around? If so, how?


14. A table of tears

My aunt tried to call after me, but I was out of the restaurant so fast I barely heard her.  I ran down the street, feeling so mad I was about to cry.   I held back my tears and kept running.  I didn't know where I as running to.  It was still light outside.  Bright and sunny, but it didn't fit how I felt at all.  I would usually perk right up when I was outside.  I loved nature, but this time it wasn't working.  It kind of made me a little sadder, knowing that everything else could be so bright when I was so dull.

Finally I stopped running and slowed to a walk.  When I looked around, I realized I was on the street of my school. I kept walking down the street and onto the school property.  Nobody was here now so I walked over to the picnic table I ate lunch at and sat down.  I looked down at the table, feeling like I was about to cry.  I knew it was about to happen.  I could feel the tears coming.  One was about to slip out of my eye when I heard a familiar voice.

"Haley?" I heard Jake say softly.  "Are you okay?" 

I sniffled and wiped away my tears quickly.  "Yeah." I lied, looking up.  "I'm fine."  I tried to smile at him.  He frowned and sat down across from me.

"That's a lie." he said.

I shook my head slightly.  "What are you doing here?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"I could ask you the same thing."  He looked at me seriously.  He hadn't smiled at all, and it made me feel a little sadder.  "I thought you were with your aunt?"

"Yeah.  I was."

"Well, why aren't you now?"  

"We just finished doing what we were going to do." I said, looking back down at the table.

"Haley." He said, making me look up at him.  His eyebrows knitted together and he reached across the table, grabbing my hand.  "You know you can tell me anything."

Before I knew what was happening, I was crying and telling Jake everything.  I was bawling, explaining everything.  I told him about the problems I had with my family, and I told him what had happened to Timothy.  I know I promised Timothy I wouldn't tell anyone what really happened, but I couldn't help it.  I'd kept it inside for years.  I just couldn't do it anymore.

What had really happened, was that Timothy had been shot.  He was sixteen, and I was twelve.  He had taken me for ice-cream one day after school, and he had said he had to stop by and see a friend.  He pulled up to a curb and turned off the car.  He told me he would be right back, and he got out of the car and walked over to a guy leaning against a building.  It was dark now, and the guy had a hood pulled over his face so I couldn't see what he looked like.  I saw Timothy walk up to him and say a few words.  The guy started talking back and it looked like they were arguing.  Before I knew what was happening, the guy had pulled out a gun and shot Timothy.  He ran down the street, leaving Timothy laying there to die.  

Back then I didn't realize what had happened.  Now I know it was a drug deal.  As much as I loved Timothy, I felt disappointed in him.  He had been such a good guy.  No one really knows what happened though.  After he had been shot, I got out of the car and ran over to him.  I knelt beside him, and he asked me not to tell anyone what had really happened.  I was really confused, but of course I promised.  He grabbed my hand, and the last words he ever said was "I love you."  Eventually, someone came along and called the cops.

Since Tim had asked me not to tell everyone the truth, I had to come up with a lie.  Timothy was the one person I looked up to my whole life, and that would be how I always remembered him.  When the cops showed up, and they asked me what had happened, I told them a heroic story.  I told them Timothy and I had been held at gun point, and when He stepped in front of me to protect me, the guy had shot him and ran away.  The believed it, and that had been the story they told my parents.  No one had ever known what had really happened until I told Jake.

I didn't feel bad about telling Jake though.  I felt like Timothy would've been okay with me telling him.  When I had finished telling Jake everything, he let go of my hand and walked around to my side of the table.  He sat down beside me and pulled me into a hug.  He didn't say anything.  He just held me, and I let him.  I clung to him as if to dear life, crying until there were no more tears to cry.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...