In 102 Languages I Love You

I rested my cheek on the cold windowsill, smelling the old paint that still gave away it's oder after all these years. I could feel a tiny breeze of wind squeezing through the cracks, keeping my face refreshed, and my body slightly shivering as the wind ran its way down my spine. Every time I exhaled I could see my breathe condensate in front of my face for a few seconds, before it dissolved into the oxygen around me. The black cotton blanket was wrapped around my bare feet, embracing me in a warm, tight, grip. The couch chair added on to my conformity on this boring night, Christmas eve.

I moved my head towards the spot were our Christmas tree stood. Well, more like slouched. I think the tree was as old as I was, maybe even older. The colors on the ornaments were chipping away, and the sparkling balls were loosing their twinkle, leaving our rug to glimmer. Not every light on the tree lit. In fact, I could count the amount that were lit, and the many that were broken. The fake trunk looked like it was about to snap any second, and there wasn't even a star to top the whole image off. There were no red and white minty candy canes hanging from the pines, or any cards hanging from the tree. It looked miserable, old, and sad, almost mediocre. Even the green color it displayed had slightly faded into some type of black/brown shade. It didn't stand a chance in making this house looking cozy and comfortable on Christmas day.

After Dan turned seventeen, and I turned fourteen, neither of us really cared for presents, so Mom never had the hassle of desperately doing late Christmas shopping. She did them early because we never asked for anything extravagant. We didn't have any other family to really spend it with either. Mom was an only child, and her parents (my grandparents), lived in Colorado. I had only seen them about three times in my life. Spoken to them probably five, but that didn't bother me much. I was never much a present person; there was never something new I wanted or got excited over, even for my birthdays. Every year, blowing out my candles, I'd wish the same thing, and every Christmas I got some lame present I had pretended to want. There was only one thing I had ever wanted. But no matter how hard I wished, how many times I begged, or pleaded, how many candles I blew out that year, or how good I was, I would never get it. I would never get more to time to live, it was impossible. I don't think anyone who celebrated Christmas ever said, "Happy Birthday Jesus Christ", either. All they wanted, was some sort of present.

I took a look around my empty living room, my empty dark house. I could hear the clock at the corner ticking away as seconds passed. I could hear my own breathing, cars passing by on late nights, but that was about it. Mom was out, at the Calhoun residence. I didn't even get the chance to spend one Christmas with Drake, not one. That's all Mom has been doing on her free time; comforting his mother. Probably thanking 'god' for me still being here, and preparing herself for when I was gone. She'd ask me to come with her, but I couldn't, I just couldn't. I couldn't walk in there, and watch her mother cry. I couldn't see her like that. I wanted to tell her, her son didn't want to see her like that either. I couldn't step into their house and look at all the pictures of him, hanging on their walls from the time he was an infant to his latest school pictures. I didn't want to walk into their kitchen and see whatever picture Drake had drawn in first grade, hanging on their fridge. I didn't want to walk into his room, and see what made Drake, Drake.

These past three day's were no longer the same. I knew he was gone, but things felt completely different, I felt different. I felt like he had taken whatever spirit I had inside me, with him. It was almost like I saw the world in its shadows, in dark colors. Everything looked as if it was fading, as if it was losing life. I never had the energy to do things, instead, these past three day's, I'd lie around the house, doing absolutely nothing. I was numb, and no one was there to pinch me, giving me back feelings into reality. He had taken my light, my smile, my good emotions. He had just left the pile of Madison, whenever she felt nothing. I missed him, I missed him a lot. And no matter how much I'd want him back, I couldn't have him back. It made me want to die quicker, so I could see him again. The problem with that was, I wanted to live to. I still wanted to enjoy life while I had it, but there was something inside myself, stopping me. And it was frustrating.

His funeral was two days from now, the day after Christmas.

I exhaled, trying to relieve the stress bubbling up inside me. I pushed the thick curtains, taking a peek outside the windows. There were white snowflakes, slowly descending from the black sky. At certain angles, you could see them sparkle from the street lights bouncing off, and reflecting on them. I didn't understand how people knew every single snowflake was a different design. Was it something we just assumed? We never really did get to see every single design on them. I bet there was once two that were the same. Every house outside had some sort of decoration on them, trying to lighten up the image of our dead looking town. I turned back to look at the clock, eleven thirty pm. I wonder what time Dan would get home. He was out with his girlfriend Tiffany on some sort of dinner thing he had planned for her. And me, I was stuck here by myself, at home. I gotta' do something, I can't just stay in here.

With that, I threw the soft blanket off of my feet, and pushed my feet down into my warm boots. My eyes wondered towards the clock, eleven thirty three.. I walked myself over to the coat rack, grabbing my black gloves, and shoving my red winter hat over my head. I grabbed Dan's watch from his jacket pocket, and put it on, over my wrist. I needed this so I wouldn't stay out to long and arrive to get yelled by my mother for being out late. Or even, for just being out. Next, I pulled over my black North Face, inserting both arms into the arm slots. I could feel my hair sticking to my face because of the static, I always hated that feeling it gave you! I dragged the zipper all the way up to the tip of my chin, and headed out into the snowy wonderland.

I had never been an expert walking through this mush. Last time I had tried this, I broke my leg. And now, my cast was completely gone, and I could walk. The doctor said I should attend physical therapy, but I refused to. I could now wear a boot over my other leg, and that damn thing could no longer make me uncomfortable. The last time I had walked through the snow I had Frank guiding me through the way, making sure I didn't slip on anything. He always seemed to be there to catch me, if I ever was to fall. I meant that literally, and metaphorically speaking. I felt my feet sink in, into the snow as I took every step, and it made me feel like one of the kids I'd watch play in the snow when I was younger, while I stayed inside since Mom never let me play in it. The wind howled loud, picking up tiny snow particles and whisking them into my face. I made sure to keep my head low, and watch my feet make every step, keeping my face safe from bitter winds.

Almost every house I passed by had their lights off. Every family inside enjoying their sleep.
It was never safe to walk at night in this town, but that never stopped me, especially on a lonely night like this. I walked aimlessly through our small quiet, town. And it wasn't until I heard the squeaking of the park gates that I decided were I actually was. I stared over to street lights that were shining green, even when no cars were actually driving by. Then, I looked over to the park, hidden behind the gates. The swings, swung by themselves, the wind being its friend, giving them a slight push. Snow had begun to accumulate on the slides, and the top of the jungle gym bars to. The naked tree's around the park looked desperate for some attention, desperate for someone to enter, and enjoy it on this night. I sighed, pushing through the black gates and entering the park. My legs mowed me over to the swing sets. They were the closets things that could get me to flying, therefor, they were my favorite.

I brushed away the small amount of snow that was on the seat, and sat myself down. I could feel the cold temperature press against my butt and my legs, once again, making my whole body shake, and shiver. My hands wrapped around the cold metal handles of the swing. I looked up into the dark sky, letting the freezing snowflakes fall onto my face. I could feel them biting my skin with cold, some landing on my lips, others on my cheeks, and a few on my eyes. One even caught on my eyelash. Slowly, my own body heat melted them away, leaving my face slightly wet. I closed my eyes, enjoying this freezing night. Enjoy this type of nature. My ears, however, did catch the slight movement of other feet, plowing through the snow. My eyes shot open, and my whole body became alarmed. I looked straight again, as my hands gripped on tighter to the metal handles. There was a black figure in front of me. I sat still, trying to fight my eyes, squinting, trying to get a better look.

"Maddy?"
As soon as those words entered my ears, my muscles relaxed and I exhaled. "Frank, what are you doing here?" I asked, watching him walk over towards me, slowly. His tight black jeans stuck onto his legs, and the sight of his converse were lost as they sunk into the snow. The hood of his jacket almost covered up part of his pretty face.

"I couldn't sleep." He mumbled, brushing the snow away from the swing beside me, and sitting himself down as well. I stared down towards my feet, just so my black hair could fall over my face, and he couldn't stare at me. I didn't like it when he stared, it made me to self conscious, and I was having a fine time without him suddenly appearing and just adding on more stress and thought. Whenever I didn't need him, he was there. He was always there! No matter how hard I tried, he managed to squeeze himself through little glitches. I looked up, and looked at my wrist to check the time once more. Eleven fifty.

I could hear Frank's breathing beside me, and I could hear his feet playing with the snow below him. Frank, I could tell would always be a little kid at heart. No matter how adult like, and how serious he had been these couple of days. Those reasons were only because of me, because my misery brought him down. He needed a girl that wouldn't cause him this much problems, and I just wasn't that girl. He hadn't mentioned anything about the whole 'girlfriend' thing since that day in the hospital, and that made me feel a lot better. But it's always like me to jinx my lucky, right?

"You're never going to give me a chance, are you? You're always going to say 'No' whenever I ask you to be my girlfriend, right? I'm just wasting my time spending time with you, trying to let you see it's okay to be in a relationship, aren't I?" He asked, looking over at me, staring hard at my face.
Now what do I say to that? He just made everything harder. No matter how much I didn't want to hurt him, no matter what I said, it would end up killing him in the end. I'm never going to be be his girlfriend. I won't allow myself to be his girlfriend. He could do so much better then me. "I'm not going to be your girlfriend.." I began looking away, to much of a coward to face him. "You need to get over me, you're going nowhere if you try harder. It's not going to work, you don't need me in your life." I tried to keep my voice strong throughout my whole sentence.

Things were okay, before my crazy self decided to take a walk four months ago, on late august. That day when Frank Iero first knocked into me, when he first touched me. Everything was fine before my crazy self again, wanted to attend high school. Before that, I'll admit I wasn't completely fine, but I wasn't as miserable as I was now. I wasn't breaking some boy's heart, I wasn't losing some best friend. I wasn't anyone. And being no one, saved a lot of people from getting hurt. And it saved me from getting hurt. This teenage life, it was filled with to many things I couldn't handle. I wasn't equipped to take life like this.

My fingers gripped tighter around the metal, it almost hurt. I didn't look at him, I'm to much of a rat. His breathing began to come in short breathes for about a minute or two, before slowly, he tamed them. I could hear the digging of his converse kicking away the snow. And when I finally looked up at him, I saw the Frank I had created. The Frank I had known four months ago, looked destroyed in those seconds. And why? Because of me. I just simply wasn't worth that. I looked away, looking over at my wrist. Twelve, o clock.

"Merry Christmas, Frank." I say, turning to him.

Slowly, his head looks up from staring at his feet, and my eyes dissolve into his. His hair is shaggy, and only the bottom tips of his long hair are black. The rest of it is now brown. His lips are parted in little pieces, the skin on it dead, and chapped. His nose is rosy red from the cold, and his cheeks look like soft cotton. "Merry Christmas," He finished, standing up from his swing set, wiping away the snow that had stuck into him. He looked over at me, for a couple of seconds. I made sure not to look at him, but my stupid self did. His hands were stuffed into his jacket pockets and he stared at me.
"I'm giving you your Christmas present.." He said, taking a step back. "I'm going to walk away. And it's up to you, only you Madison, to decide how far I go." He finished, his lips shaking like mad. "If you don't want me there, then so be it.." He said thrusting his arms out of his pocket. They fell into tight fists at his sides.

What do I say to this?

He turned around, and began to take steps away from me. I noticed something on the floor, and quickly got off the swing seat, to grab it. "Wait!" I yelled, calling after him.
Swiftly, his body turned around, and I could see the muscles in his body relax. I could see that sparkle in his eyes, hope. I swallowed back a lump stuck in my throat.

"You dropped your gloves.."

I mumbled, feeling like an idiot as Frank's face fell, and his eyes wondered
down towards my hands, were his gloves lay. His head shook a little and he turned back, slowly,
walking away from me again. I stood there, my hand extended out, holding his gloves in my own grip,watching as his body was no longer visible. I stood there, feeling like I had just made a big mistake.