Other Side of the Story

"Vale! Can you hear me?! Wake up! Valerian!" I woke up. It's quite strange, having a dream about an old friend who use to wake me up in the morning. Nine years. I'm currently twenty-nine years old. Time sure passes in a flash. No, I take back that statement. The last nine years were the slowest, and worst years of my life. Where should I start?

Let's go back to when I was fourteen. I was in middle school, and one weekend, my mother forced me to go to church with her. My mother was very dedicated and never missed a day of church. Now you know why I have a 'unique' name like Valerian. While at the church, I was introduced to my mom's friend's daughter, who was ten at the time. We saw each other fairly often and we would talk for hours while our parents chatted. We were close despite the age difference and we became closer when we became neighbors. The girl's mother often had to leave for business trips, so she would stay over at our house.

We continued being close until I turned eighteen. I got into a decent university but, it was very far away. Countries apart to be exact. My family decided to move with me. I had to say goodbye to that girl. A week before I left, the girl's mother passed away from heart failure. She refused to leave her house, so I was never able to say goodbye.

Flash forwards two years, I was visiting my old high school. I heard from my mother that the girl was attending the same high school I attended. I asked around, but everyone who heard her name just gave me a strange look. Even my old teachers refused to say a word about her. It was strange, but I just assumed she got into some kind of trouble. Another place I wanted to visit was the church. There, I ran into a few people I knew. As I walked towards the seats, I notice two chairs with writing carved into them. "Did you know? A young girl passed away about a month ago," a women next to me explained. I read the writing on the chairs. "In memory of Miss Agnes Cross," I could already guess what the other chair would say, but I still wished that it's not what I thought. "In memory of Miss Agnes' daughter, Cecilia Cross, who died from an unfortunate incident.

-Other Side of the Story, End-