Who said that love stories had a happy ending?

A love story of two people- once bully and victim- who fall in love and fall out of it because of who they are.

Written for Movella's Love Competition!


1. Dear Kathy

I remember when I first met you- we were 8. You wore glasses back then- they framed and magnified your beautiful blue eyes. You still had a thin layer of fat round your face and your arms- and your freckles were dark and speckled across the bridge of your tiny thin nose. Do you remember how you used to wear your silky black hair; in those pigtails with the pink barrette to keep your fringe back? I do. You looked so nerdy back then; back then, I didn't like you like I like you now. Back then I was a horrible person to you- I liked to make you cry. You used to cry in the bathroom while my friends and I laughed. It was funny back then- now, it isn't funny at all. I now know the severity of my actions. I remember when you began to become thinner and thinner- the baby fat you had slowly retreating leaving your face looking hollow and gaunt. Your eyes slowly became lifeless and then I remember when you stopped coming to school when we were 14. The rumours spread about you say you tried to kill yourself and that you were taken to rehab to get better. I didn't want to believe it because it hurt me so to think that maybe I had caused you to want to die. To want to end the life you had only just begun. You didn't come to school again. Not to ours anyway- someone else said that you were going to a school somewhere up state. I changed during the 5 years we were apart- I knew I had to stop what I was doing or someone else would become you. Someone else would be my victim and want to kill themselves- and what if they had succeeded with something you didn't? I don't think I would have been able to look at myself in the mirror again if someone did that because of the stupid childish abuse I threw at them.

When I saw you again, I was working in the Café on 3rd Street. You were coming back- looking for a fresh start in the town in which you had nearly given up on it all. You had changed so much- I somewhat blame that on myself. You had gotten contacts, which suited you, better than the thick rimmed things you had worn through all the time I had been in your class at school. Your face had regained shape and it didn't look like someone had repainted facial features on a skull that had long been buried. You hair was different too- it was no longer in those pig tails I remember. No, it hung around you shoulder in black short tight curls- contrasting greatly against your snowy skin. You reminded me of snow white when I first saw you there- looking at your little map thing that you held in you manicured fingers. You looked beautiful; just like Snow White. You didn't see me at first but when you noticed me staring at you in complete awe- you did something surprising. You smiled, right at me with your pearly white teeth. I never thought you'd smile at me, at first I thought maybe- you didn't recognize me. That maybe my appearance didn't resemble the bully that you had been victimised by all those years ago; but when you walked up to the bar and leant against it and said my name, I was almost blown away by you. How you faced me- without knowing how I would react. "Kathy" I replied in a questioning tone. After certainly knowing it was you- we talked. I learnt so much about you in those few hours that we were talking in the Café. I learnt that the rumours were true- that you had tried to overdose on paracetamol but failed. That you had suffered an eating disorder for 6 of the years I was with you in school. That it was only recently that you had beaten your battle with Anorexia. I apologized for that- I told you that I had changed since we last met- that I was no longer the bully I had once been. You listened to me as I told you how I regretted abusing you when we were younger- and that I felt responsible for her Anorexia and her suicidal tendency. You just nodded and said I forgive you before you told me you had to go and that you would see me soon.

I thought you were lying but you weren’t- I saw you at the fair days later. You were wearing a cardigan and a flowery summer dress. You looked so beautiful. I felt bashful as I went over to you and offered to buy you something to drink because I thought you looked quite parched; you being the kind beautiful person you are- tried to decline but in the end you accepted and we went and got a soda. That was a nice day. It was warm and hot and the sun was high in the powder blue sky- yet you looked like you were untouched by the humidity, your beautiful locks staying in place; unfraying. We spent all day together- going on the rides, eating cotton candy. As night fell we escaped the crowds of the fair and into one of the nearby fields so we could watch the fireworks together. At 8 o'clock in the evening they began. Sparks and splashes of colour shot across the dark sky- lighting your face in colours of red purple and blue. You smiled at me as I paid attention to the display. Mid way- I looked into those deep blue eyes of yours- reading your hurt past like a book. That is when we first kissed. I remember that kiss like it was yesterday. How sweet and soft your lips were- they tasted like cherry. I kissed you back while the fireworks banged and clapped behind us. It was then did I realize that I was in love with you. We shared kisses for a few more moments but when you stopped I didn't want to. I wanted to kiss you until you begged for no more but I wouldn't force you to do something you didn’t want to do.

After that night we met and met again- in secret. For some reason we were scared of being caught. We were afraid no one would understand. 4 weeks after meeting I had my arms wrapped round your waist my nose in your hear as we slept together under the covers of the Motel bed. I could hear you crying and it broke my heart. To hear sobs rack from your chest, your body shaking in my arms. I whispered comforting words into your ears trying to make your sobs quieten- to stop the strain on my heart. You slowly quietened down and said something quietly about me having to go before my Dad noticed I was gone and that if that happened then he would begin to ask questions. I agreed and left. I didn't see you for 4 days; I texted you 12 times over the course of the days trying to contact you. I asked where you were, why you weren't replying, why you weren't replying. You still did not respond. I thought I had done something terribly wrong and now you hated me and never wanted to see me again. I went to our spot on the forth night in hopes you would be there but you were not. I waited in the cold- waiting for my phone to vibrate or buzz alerting me that you had texted. It didn't come, I felt like crying. I went home- almost forgetting that I had left the email we exchanged a week previously open on the home computer. Dad read it. He was so very furious when I came home. He shouted at me and beat me telling me I was a freak, unnatural and that Jesus didn't love me. He beat me and beat me until the pain was numbing and all I could see was your face. He told me that he would set me straight. The next morning the bruises began to form like paint on my skin. It wasn’t the bruises that hurt it was what he had done. I felt so dirty. I needed to see you- even if you hadn't replied to my texts. I got on my bike and biked to the motel and found your room. I knocked so desperate to see your face again- for you to hold me and tell me everything would be OK, but when you opened the door you seemed surprised and then tried to get rid of me; but the boy you had in your room came round the corner and looked at me then you. He looked so much like you but then again- you don't have a brother. Not that you told me of. You tried to explain but I wasn't taking any of it- I was gone before you screamed my name for the second time.

And here I am- at our spot writing this goodbye to you my love. I told you in one of our nights of passion that I would die for you, go to the ends of the earth for you- you sore that you would do the same for me. But that was a lie- another lie. My father was right, our love is wrong. People who are the same gender shouldn't be together. Love between girls shouldn’t happen it isn’t right. Well that’s what you think like everyone else in this go forsaken town. So this is goodbye Kathy. I'm going to go Kathy- put a bullet through my skull like someone like me should. I will do what you failed to achieve in Junior high; so, again goodbye Kathy. Who said that love stories had a happy ending?

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