He still couldn’t believe she was gone. Everywhere he went, all around him, were reminders of her, and he fought hard to keep the tears at bay. Looking back in that hospital room, for the last time, was playing in his mind, over and over again. He couldn’t shake the image of her pale skin and deep glassy eyes. It was so surreal.

He didn’t want to go home; her stuff was still there, empty promises of return. Yet there he was, standing before the front door on the edge of losing it. The door swung open; he didn’t open it. Then, a familiar sweet voice came with the opening door. It wasn’t Taylor; he wished it were.

“How did it go?” Ryan’s mom asked with great care. Ryan just looked up at her with eyes welling up, on the verge of exploding.

“She’s gone.” Were the only words that managed to escape his lips. His mom quickly embraced him, holding him tightly.

Of all the things he could find of Taylor, it was a sock that gripped him the most. So after supper, where he just sat and stared blankly at the plate and left for his room without saying goodnight, he sat down on his bed holding her sock in one hand and tightly squeezed the blanket on his bed with the other.

They were a few friends who came together every third Saturday to enjoy a LAN party together and play their favorite games; last weekend, he never imagined would be their last. Taylor was allowed to sleep over at Ryan’s parent’s house when they had these parties; her father never allowed her to do anything like that but agreed to keep her happy. Although it felt like an eternity passed since Sunday night, he could still remember it clearly.

Her large beautiful green eyes glistened in the dim light of the streetlamp; her father was on his way to pick her up. The weekend was over; both were sleep deprived and had indigestion of note, though neither would admit it. It was somewhat cold, but both refused to embrace the other to keep each other warm.

“I had a good weekend.” She said with a soft smile; her hands were buried deep within her new oversized jacket. Though it did belong to Ryan, she decided that it was hers to keep.

“Me too… You were fun… I mean, we had fun.” His response was awkward but expected; he was an introvert, worse than most. His awkwardness knew no bounds. He accidentally touched Taylor’s hand once, and still, he would apologize for it whenever an opportunity arose.

Ryan noticed Taylor was not feeling well, she was paler than usual, and though she denied it twice, she didn’t run to the bathroom because of an upset stomach. Only once he thought of following her, he could hear how she would vomit, standing by the bathroom door to make sure she was okay he promised not to leave her side. Although she insisted on joining the LAN party, Ryan and her dad were entirely against the idea. Both, however, wanted to see her happy.

“I’m cold.” She hoped he would understand her hint and hold her; their attraction to one another was evident to everyone. But, unfortunately, both were too scared and shy to take the first step.

“Me too.” He replied blankly; she broke out in a low laugh; it was so typical of Ryan to respond like that. Finally, she decided that it was time; she lept in for his embrace; quite awkwardly, he wrapped his arms around her, not knowing how to hold her.

“You always smell so nice.” She meant it; it was one thing she liked about him. He was always clean and smelt like a new person. For a long moment, they just stood there without moving a muscle, she was warming his chest, and he was warming her. Then, finally, she pulled back and looked him in the eyes; he looked back with a nervous smile; he never knew what he was supposed to do if he ever ended up in a situation such as that. She pulled him closer and gave him a kiss. Unsurprisingly he was a terrible kisser; his lips were stiff and his eyes wide open; they stood there like that for a good minute or two, like two statues frozen in time. The bright lights of her dad’s pickup came around the bend, their moment had to end. She quickly removed herself from his arms and straightened her jacket.

The large black pickup stopped in front of them; her dad was already in a mood. She rushed to get in, and Ryan followed to meet her at the door window as she got in. Her father never liked Ryan; none of them understood why but he made it clear that he was not welcome at his house; he looked over Taylor’s shoulder at him with a snare.

“Where’s your stuff?” Again, her father was rude; Ryan just backed up a little from the car not to infuriate him more.

“Ryan said he’ll drop it off in the morning.”

That opportunity never came; he never saw her the next day because of the accident. Instead, he was at the hospital hoping to hear some good news from the doctor. Her father was there too, but he did not acknowledge his existence; he didn’t chase him away either.

It has been a long day; he never had a chance to say goodbye. The doctor assured them that she would wake up again, but it was lies to comfort them. She was finally resting, though he so wished that he could see her just one more time. It has been an excruciating year for her, going through treatment, losing her identity, and losing out on the pleasures of life as a whole.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Her computer stood in the corner, everything together and neatly packed; he never had the chance that week to drop it off at her house. It stuck to his mind; it was an ever lingering reminder that she was there, in his room. Ryan would wonder what was on her computer, what secrets she kept, and if anything was on there about him. He had too much respect for her to go snooping around. The thought passed.

The sock in his hand was dirty, a faint reminder of her lack of hygiene; she never cared much for that. There was a hole in the big toe and one on the heel, so typical, he thought to himself. He laughed at the memory of her hiding it the first time he saw it. She casually took her shoes off, not remembering she never changed into some decent socks; Taylor was so embarrassed she took them off and quickly hid them away. He gave her a new pair of his own; his feet were tiny, or was her just big? They never knew. He threw the old ones in his cupboard and almost forgot about them.

It was late; he did not dare to check on his phone what the time was. He had not moved for a couple of hours, leaving his back and neck stiff and sore; he didn’t care much about that either; he felt like crying and giving up on life. The game they were waiting so long to play didn’t even matter to him anymore; it was due to release at twelve or already been released, Ryan wasn’t sure.

He looked at her computer again, burning to set it up and take a look at what was inside; there were so many unanswered questions it left just standing there. Then, taking a big breath, he finally stood up from his bed, leaving the sock behind, his head spinning as he got up, almost causing him to lose balance. He shook it off, looked at his phone, and saw it was 2:56am, it was late or early. He hadn’t had much sleep for the past week, and it didn’t seem like he was going to get any sleep anytime soon.

The computer was heavy, the chassis was large and very awkward to carry. Ryan placed it down where she would usually sit and took a large breath as he stood back and imagined her sitting there. Then, for a moment, his hands went numb, and the room around him grew more prominent; his mouth too was going dry. His eyes welled up, but he swallowed his sorrow, his determination to see what was on there was giving him some hope that she left something for him to remember her by.

The screen came up, loading the operating system; he landed on a screen that asked for a password within seconds. He had no clue what it could be. Ryan sat back in his chair and scratched his head. With impeccable timing, his phone vibrated, a sense of joy came over him, being used to receiving messages from Taylor that early in the morning. His heart dropped halfway through, taking out his phone, knowing that it couldn’t be her. Once again, his eyes welled up; he was inches away from falling apart.

Taylor’s funeral will be on Tuesday. The old cathedral, 9am.

The text message was from her dad; Ryan was surprised he even received an invite, though he didn’t know whether or not he wanted to go. It was too painful for him. Ryan didn’t bother answering the message. A thought came over him that maybe the password to her computer was his father’s name. He typed in Fredrick and Fred, but neither was accepted. He thought a little longer and finally typed his own name in with her favorite number, two, and with a click of a button, he was in. His heart stopped for a moment realizing her password was his name; she indeed had feelings for him.

“No.” She said, laughing while being tickled by Ryan. “You can’t go onto my PC; that is my private world; you’ll just laugh at me.”

“I might laugh at you, but I promise you I won’t judge the porn on your PC too harshly.” Ryan joked, he never thought Taylor would have porn on her computer, no, not someone like her.

“I’m afraid you’ll find things on there far worse than porn.” They both laughed and laid on his bed; she was sore; he could see it in her eyes though she would never complain.

“I want you to promise me.” She shifted her upper body and looked at him with serious eyes.

“I can’t make any promises.” He jokingly replied.

“No! I’m serious.” He didn’t receive a smile or laughter back, being awkward; he nervously laughed and finally stopped as her gaze grew more intense.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m listening.”

She sat up, keeping her gaze on him.

“Promise me you will never snoop around on my PC.”

Ryan thought back fondly on that memory; it was one of the many times afforded to them where they could be alone and be themselves. Of course, he did promise her that he’d never look on her computer, but he thought what harm could be done now? She’s not there anymore, so what difference would it make?

He went into the explorer and typed his name in the search bar; he hoped he would find something, though he wasn’t optimistic. To his surprise a document labeled ‘ForRyan’ appeared among the found results, the date the document was modified was within the previous weekend when she was there by his house, his hands were shaking, his forehead was sweaty, he wanted to read it but at the same time had an overwhelming feeling that he should let it be. So he went straight ahead and double-clicked on the document revealing a letter she had written.

My Dearest Ryan

I hope the day you get this email, you won’t be mourning me anymore. We both know I am sick and I don’t have much time left, I am already on borrowed time. Soon I will be too sick to join you guys for a lan party and you will start missing me. I don’t know, somehow I can feel my time is near, I try not to think about it but it gets hard sometimes, you know? I’ve seen the others at school look at me like I’m some kind of walking virus, it breaks my heart. But I know I can always rely on you no matter what. You’ve been my rock and only support. My dad has also become very agitated, I know he is just worried about me but he needs to understand that I’m going through this and not him. I only wish you and him could get along better. I’m drifting from the subject. So when you get to read this I want you to understand a few things. First of all, I love you, your heart is kind, your awkwardness is a major turn on and the person you are is just so amazing, I wish I could be like you. I wish we had more time to be together too. Secondly I am gone, I’m not coming back so you need to move on with your life, forget me

The letter ended there, it was a good thing too. It was incomplete. Ryan was crying out of control, sobbing so loud he was scared he would wake his parents. He hated himself for being awkward and scared; he didn’t know what to say or do. He was a fool; he should have made her happy when she was still with him. But, instead, he left her wondering, and now it was too late.

Behind him, it felt like she was there, holding his shoulder. He needed that comfort, but when he placed his hand on his shoulder, there was no one there; it was an empty placeholder, a place reserved for her hand.

He fell face forward onto his bed; he couldn’t take it anymore. He cried into his pillow, cursing himself under his breath. How could he have been so stupid and doubted himself so much?