• ʜᴇʀ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ɪs ᴊᴇᴀɴ


    She's really pretty.

    She's the kind of girl that boys would stop twice to stare at. I know I did.

    My finger hovered over the touch pad mouse before I clicked the "Friend request" button.

    Not even a few moments later, she accepted.

    She must get a lot of friend requests.

    A faint blush showed on my face before I messaged.

    I didn't know what to say, I didn't want her to think I was weird.

    After racking my brain thick and thin to think of something, I did the dumb thing.

    "Hi"

    Wow, could I have been any more stupid?

    To my shock, she replied.

    "Hey ! c:"

    She even put a smiley face!

    "How are you?"

    Why was I being so bland?

    "I'm doing well, yourself?"

    "Kind of cold, actually. I guess that's just how Nebraska is."

    "Oh, I'm sorry. It's warm in Florida. I'm Jean, by the way!"

    Like I didn't know that. I laughed a little.

    "I'm Corey. Nice name."

    We talked for hours.

    I asked her why she was bothering talking to me, only because she were so pretty.

    "No one messages me!"

    "I feel like that's a lie - have you seen your face?"

    I felt like a douche, the last time I used that line the girl had asked if I only spoke to her for her body.

    "/."

    Was all she replied.

    What was that?

    "What is /.?"

    "Hehe, a blush face silly!"

    Before I knew it, it was already 12am.

    I sighed, knowing I had work the next morning.

    We said goodnight and I logged off, setting my laptop down on the floor beside my bed.

    I smiled and drifted to sleep.

    I woke up the next morning, excited to talk to her.

    She wasn't online.

    It kind of made me sad.

    Instead of moseying around, I got up and headed to work.

    When I got home, she was still offline.

    I checked every day for the entire weekend until she was finally on.

    I didn't realize she was until she messaged me.

    "Hey! Sorry, my mom just got diagnosed with cancer and I was just helping her get through the shock."

    I felt guilty for thinking she was ignoring me.

    "No! How terrible.. I wish I could do something."

    "Yeah... /: "

    I sat dumbly at my keyboard, not sure what to say.

    No one I've known has had cancer.

    "I'll be here, if it matters."

    "It does, Corey. c:"

    I smiled back.

    It made me happy we had another night of talking.

    The process continued for another week - we even talked on the phone a few times.

    I loved her voice.

    Eventually, I got the guts.

    "So... Jean..."

    "Yeah?"

    "I was ... Do... /." I used her emoticon. "Do you want to maybe date?"

    I knew the time zones were hard on both of us, but she made me happy.

    "I'd love to! c: "

    My face was so red.

    We dated each other for a long time, four months to be exact.

    All my friends saw her pictures.

    They said she was so pretty.

    They were right.

    One day I got a strange text.
    From: Unknown
    "Jean's a slut."
    I got mad.

    I asked her about it, along with the number that it texted me from.

    It took her a while to respond, but eventually she did.

    "That's my ex."

    Oh.

    I paused, not sure what to say.

    "Why would he say that?"

    "..."

    "Jean?"

    "I... Kissed him..."

    "What?! When?"

    "Yesterday..."

    "Did he know we were dating?"

    "Not until this morning..."

    I was furious.

    "Well, apparently I didn't mean a lot to you!"

    "Corey... :c"

    "We're through, Jean."

    I quickly logged off, not bothering to say goodbye.

    My phone buzzed and rang with frantic calls and texts from you.

    I left them all unread.

    I didn't want to see them at all.

    About a month and a half went by before I bothered to look at your profile again.

    You'd stopped posting statuses a week ago and I felt guilty remembering your mom.

    I went to your friend's list and found your best friend, who I messaged.

    "Is Jean alright?"

    "She's in the hospital."

    Probably her mom.

    "Wha-? Why?!"

    "Car crash."

    I felt a tear sting the corner of my eye.

    "When did this happen?"

    "About a week ago. Why does it matter to you?"

    I didn't respond.

    It took me a moment, maybe a few hours, to process what to do about this situation.

    I scrolled back through Jean's and my conversations, tears rolling down as I did so.

    Finally, I found where she'd given me her address.

    She'd given it to me because I said when I was done school in a few months I'd go see her.

    I pulled up my banking account, decided I had enough to go to Florida.

    I looked up the closest hospital to her --- St. Georgian Hospital.

    I rented a car and payed my landlord in advance before I took off on my journey.

    I saw a lot of cool and neat things on the way, but I was frantic to get to her.

    Eventually, I got to the town where the hospital was.

    I was tired, and weak from two days of driving non-stop, besides gas, but pushed
    through to the hospital parking lot.

    I sat behind the steering wheel and fixed my hair, trying to look presentable.

    Once I looked OK, I got out of the car and walked in.

    I forgot how long you had to wait in the lobby.

    The receptionist then called me up, asking what I needed.

    "I need to go see Jean Collins.."

    They led me down a million halls, left and right, up and down, until we reached one
    door.

    The nurse opened the door and I stood in awe, with a pink face and teary eyes.

    There laid Jean, broken and frail, laying down.

    She looked so hurt.

    She was awake, and I could tell because she opened one of her eyes.

    She spoke weakly, seeing me.

    "C-Corey?"

    She tried to prop herself up on her elbow, but I rushed over to her side.

    "No no, lay down."

    I put a hand on her arm, and saw her faintly smile.

    "What?"

    "I've waited so long to feel your hands."

    I chewed the inside of my lip and laughed, my voice choking a little.

    "Well, you have them now."

    Jean moved one of her arms, the not broken one, and slowly brushed my cheek with
    the back of her hand.

    "You need to shave."

    I laughed.

    "Okay, mom."

    She giggled, but winced soon after.

    "How bad was the crash?"

    "I've got a few broken ribs and the door cut into my side the way the other car bent it."

    I moved my hand to hers and gripped it, not too tight, afraid to hurt her.

    We talked for most of the night, and I never let go of her hand.

    Before she fell asleep, she said, "Corey... I still love you."

    The nurses tried telling me to go home, but I refused.

    I ended up sleeping in the chair next to her bed.

    It only felt like a few minutes, but was much longer than that before I heard the flat line sound which woke me.

    Doctors were rushing into the room, and I stood quickly from the chair, gripping her hand.

    "No, no baby. Please..."

    A tear pushed past my lower lid.

    They tried to do electric-shock revival, but that didn't work.

    They also tried CPR, but by then she was long gone.

    I lost her.

    I love her.
    ɪ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ʜᴇʀ ᴘʀᴏғɪʟᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴅᴀʏ.