He Has Her

01/01

“I miss the old Alex.”

I sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know where she went,” I responded, focusing on the road as I turned the corner of the road. Rain was pattering down the windshield, softly, but steadily. I flicked the wipers once to clear the rain.

“I do.”

I once again shrugged. I didn’t see what she saw, or she didn’t see, rather. I had changed in the few months, but I didn’t see the difference anymore. I had changed back into the old person I was. “Where did she go?”

“In the stars that she used to stare at. Or in the music she used to sing. She’s everywhere, but I can’t reach her anymore.” She paused as I pulled into the driveway. She pulled her hood over her head, opened the door and looked back. “Corey has her.”

She walked into the house without a word, and I sat and watched, silently. Of course he had her. He’d broken her down, with help from calloused fathers and unobservant friends, but she had built herself back up, hadn’t she?

No.

Of course he had her. But she didn’t, and never could, have him.