“Amy Peterson”- A very short story.

Amy Peterson let me cheat on our senior math tests, never once was I caught peeking over her shoulder.

“Only on tests.” her soft voice would say. Though, she was notorious for giving into my argument of “forgetting” to do my homework.

Amy Peterson was my best friend. She was more than the smart girl who had enough pity for me to cheat off of her math tests.

Amy Peterson was the head of pastel pink hair that smelled like roses. She was her smile when she spoke, she was the laugh that I fell in love with. Amy Peterson was more than beautiful.

After High School graduation, Amy and I attended the same college. We were still great friends. It was hard not telling her about my admiration, especially when we stood close.

Her and I would always get together on Friday nights, sharing new music that we have been listening to, and I loved every song.

It was a Friday night when we laid in my old bed, in my old room, in my old house. It was the Friday night that I reached for her hand, and she rolled over to kiss me. When our eyes fluttered back open, her eyes were the greenest of green. Amy didn’t know what to say.

I brushed her hair away from her face, “I love you, Amy Peterson.” I whisper to her softly. Her eyes became glossy, she loved me too.

That Friday night was our first time.


 

The next morning, she woke up to make it to her first class. She woke me up just to tell me that she loves me, and she gave me our last kiss before swiping her car keys off of the bedside table, softly shutting the door behind her. I didn’t hear from her for days after that morning. She wasn’t home, her roommates had not seen her, and he professor claimed that she had skipped class. After three days of not knowing, I received one of the most painful phone calls of my life. It was Amy’s mother on the other end, and her voice shook.

Amy Peterson died a year ago today, I write this laying flowers on her grave.

I loved Amy Peterson, forever and always.

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