It’s been 3 years to this day sense the accident. I don’t even know why it was called an accident, nothing about it was accidental. The police don’t know that. They never will.

 

               Everything got better in school, I got my friends back, and just last summer they took me out of therapy.  Oh god, if only they knew that now is when I need it most.

 

                3 years… 3 goddamned years ago, it was spring break of 2011.

 

                The break started out normal; I rode the bus home with my best friend and spent the next day ‘playing’ basketball with some other friends. Then I had to babysit my siblings, until Thursday rolled around. March 24, 2011.

 

                Warm air, salty water, sandy bodies. Beach time. Maybe fairytales do come true…

                He was beautiful. Like an angel sent from heaven, just for me. When he looked at me, my heart skipped a beat. When he first touched me, I thought I would pass out. The way his light brown eyes looked at me gave me the chills.

 

                The first day, I saw him on the beach with his friends. They were playing football, 3 against 3. I was listening to my music a little too loud, so I couldn’t hear what he said.  My friend caught the words though, the words that led me on the adventure of my life. ‘Do you want to be cheerleaders?’

 

                He called me cheerleader. We cheered when necessary, and got a new identity. They showed off their football skills, and I showed off my cartwheels. I shouldn’t have left. But I did. My low patience makes my life hard. Onyx and I drifted off to one of the 8 pools in the hotel… without him.

                Just passing by, he gave me the feeling I was the only girl in the whole hotel.  ‘Nice PJs, cheerleader.’ He remembered. He remembered ME.

 

                The way his amber hair fell just over his gleaming eyes made my stomach flop. No one has looked at me like that. No one had a reason to.

 

                I’m not hot. I’m not even pretty. What made him take a second look at me? My bottom teeth are messed up, my hair is always frizzy, and I always have pimples. I just was just like any other 14 year old. Except to him, I was different.

 

                I’m not a cheerleader. I don’t like any kind of sport. You know how some cats can be indoor cats? Yeah, I’m an indoor human.

 

                My music was my lifeline back then. I needed it to carry on my normal actions. I listened to my music too loud, all the time. Everywhere I went in that hotel, I had my black headphones in my ears.

 

                Elevator girls.  Another new name. Who knew you could meet so many different people by being stuck in an elevator with them.

 

                10:56. Stuck in the elevator once again, with too many people. He walked on. Had to be in the hotel room by 11. Talk to him…

 

                He cared. He cared if I was drunk or not. Of course I wasn’t. I was 14. He didn’t know though. I was just cheerleader. The serenity in his voice made my heart melt.

 

                I was in love. I was in love with a guy I’ve never really talked to, and didn’t even know. Love is a crazy thing.

 

                Late at night, I thought about him. I thought about how his smile made me blush. He belonged with me. He was with other girls. I loved him. They didn’t. How dare they be with him, when I was trapped inside this hotel room.

 

                Couches. Beach. Sunset. Talk about perfect. He came up to me. He STILL remembered. He acted as if he cared about everything I rambled on about. No one cares. He does.

 

                Water is my phobia. The way it moves and kills scares me. He asked why. He took the time to ask why. I fell more in love with him.

 

                ‘Cheerleaders, wanna come play football?’  He started to talk to me more. He looked into my eyes. I couldn’t meet his gaze. If only I knew my time to look into those warm, sparkling, eyes was limited…

 

                He wanted me to know him, just as much as I wanted him to know me. He was so much like me. Insecure. Not sure about anything, but making the best out of everything.

 

                He held me close. I could feel his hot breath on my neck. If only I realized that it wouldn’t last. That I wouldn’t be able to be held close to his body anymore, or feel his lips on mine.

 

                P E R F E C T. He perfected the imperfections. Everything about him, even the flaws, made me love him more. I never wanted to let him go.

 

                I was his Juliet, and he was my Romeo. No matter what, our love would never fade, even if we got faced with difficult challenges .If one of us died, we both would. That was our promise. I left the hotel the next day.

 

                I went back to school. I knew he ruined his phone during spring break, so I wasn’t worried when he didn’t text me for a while. Our love would survive anything.

 

Summer came, and I got no call. I was heartbroken. Nothing. Is this what my Romeo would do to me?

 

School was back. I was officially a 9^th grader. Highschooler now. Still lost.  I was nothing without my Romeo. The letters I sent got returned, unopened. Had the whole thing been a lie? It seemed my prince wasn’t a prince at all…

 

October 24^th, the message came. It was my Romeo’s mother. She was crying. Jonathan had been Balcony Hopping the day after I left, and had fallen 19 stories. He had died. His mother never unpacked his suitcase of the trip until this day. She found a letter addressed to me.

 

 “Dear my sweet, sweet, Juliet.

 

I killed my prince. And no one would ever know, except for me. Not only did I kill my Romeo, but I never had enough courage to join him at heavens gates. I vowed I would never read Romeo & Juliet again.

 

 Soon after that day, I got diagnosed with depression. My grades dropped, and I abandoned my friends. Knowing that I was the cause of my soul mates death tugged at my conscience every day. I only got to spend a week with him.

 

Things slowly got better. One by one, I got my friends back, and slowly regained confidence. Some things time can’t heal, though. He was my last boyfriend, and it will stay like that. Even if he is not with me, I will always love him.

 

My depression fully wore off about mid-June, of my 10^th grade summer. Things were looking up. I was finally put back into gifted classes. I knew I would never get over the tragedy I caused, but I could now live with the pain of it all.

 

January 17^th, 2014. My teacher announced we would be reading ‘Romeo & Juliet’, and if we didn’t complete the book, we would fail the 10^th grade. Right there, In the middle of class, I broke down crying. After I calmed down, I asked my teacher if I could get a different reading assignment from the rest of the class.

 

She wouldn’t give it to me without a good explanation, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell her my secret. I got the book, and its sitting on top of my desk, the same place it has been sitting for the past 3 months. I don’t dare to touch it.

 

Tonight, I have decided I will join my Romeo. It has been 3 years too many, and all I want in the world is to be with him, even if it means leaving the world. I’m coming, my Romeo. We belong together.