.:Let her lay beside my heart:. (essay)

I was walking down from school that fine Thursday.

She was absent and I never thought I'd bother to know where she went. As I recall from the last time I did that, I was the one who gets scolded for worrying. She's probably out with some guy, enjoying herself as a fake adult with a stranger rather than being a teenager with a guy who knows her... like me. We were probably strangers a year ago and even if time flies, we had memories together; beautiful memories that lasts forever. I knew her parents had just seperated but it doesn't mean she should seperate herself too... from me. Was I too much of 'just a friend' guy? Am I... not attractive? And she's there out in the city, roaming around like a lost puppy (without me) and with a guy she doesn't even know his last name (and to her, last names don't really have the relevance here). But still, she doesn't know him! Why does he has what I deserve? I never wanted to be just a friend because I had been more than just that.


My cell phone vibrates just in time before I lost it. It was a simple SMS from my mother. So it reads:"Frankie, I have to leave the house for groceries. Take care while I'm gone."

... Great, I'm alone in the house. What gives?

And I has wished that day for Brianna's parents to work things out instead of seperating.

Bree would've been herself if it didn't happen. But it did and now Bree's addictive to skipping schools and going out with guys that she barely knows. And I was always there to get her right again. No, I should've known. Bree's a stubborn girl; she would do the same thing and she wouldn't even thank me for all the things I did to make things quiet.. and right again. And now she's out there somewhere, sort of happy; glad that she's far from her mom who wouldn't even care where she went. No! No, no, Brianna! It's wrong! It's wrong, wrong, wrong! Your mother never cared but you never cared to look behind that shadow to see me worrying and caring about you! So what that we're friends?!

It was then where I come to a corner that I must take. I was at the gate, unlocking it before going in and locking it again. I opened the door and locked it. Then I rushed upstair to drop my bag and take a shower.


I looked up outside. It was raining real bad and heavily; I could barely see the sky liners of Manhattan or even my next door's neighbors' roof.

I wonder if Brianna's home....

My thoughts died instantly when my cell phone rang again. I pick it up immediately.

"Frankie?" It was Brianna mom.

"Oh, hi, Mrs. Jones. What can I do for you?"

There was an irrritatible silence and yet a deadly one. It send shivers down my spine as she stuttered and muttered, "It's about Brianna... H-Have you seen her?"

"No, Mrs. Jones. She didn't come to school today so--"

"Do you think that she's dead?"




I gulped nervously.

"What makes you think that she is, mam..?!"

She remained silent. It was all too heavy for us to speak all the sudden.

And there, I had that sudden urge. I rushed down stairs and passed the phone to my mom who was making dinner. I slammed open the back door, not thinking of getting the umbrella. I ran across the street and ran with all my heart. I had my eyes blurry due to the rain, hits tonnes of things on the way to the playground. And there she was, sitting on the swing with what I could--No, what i had always been seeing all this while... her tears falling down from her eyes.

Another guy, another crying moment. But I was her friend. No, in truth, I was her boy friend which she hasn't seen it yet.

"Bree..." I muttered.

She sniffled and look up to me with those blue eyes. Her blonde hair drenched in rain. Her tears mixed with rain.

"Frankie... What have I done?"

I came to her and took her in my arms. I gave her tight hug and she hugged me back.

I know, as a man, I should've left her, forget about her because there are tonnes of milions of girls out there--but something hold me back and I knew it was for a good reason; my heart belonged to Brianna. As even a boy who lives in the classroom to play around with friends or as a boywho has a strange notion to jot down what the teacher said, or the boy who has fallen in love and may even cry for his love--I don't see why I should think myself as wuss doing what I'm doing. She's my first love and isnot my friend. Love has always been mistaken as friendship...

"Frankie, I'm sorry..." she muttered.

I held her tighter...

And as the rain fell faster and heavier.. Thunders roared every inch of downtown Manhattan that Thursday evening...

"But, Frankie, I l-love you..."

And I was a complete man.