What Remains
“How did you know she was the one? “
“Who?”
“Mom.”
“Where'd you hear that saying?”
“I don't know.”
“Are you lying?”
“No.”
“Where do you think you heard it—we haven’t seen another person in weeks. Hell, you’ve probably met three other people in your life.”
“I’m not sure, maybe mom said it. How did you know though?”
“I'm not sure if I knew she was the one, a lot of the time you never know, but she made me happy and she gave me you.”
“So you liked her a lot?”
“Yeah, I liked her a lot.”
“Do you think she liked you?”
“Why are you asking all of this?”
“I don't know.”
“What do you think it means to like someone?”
“I don’t know.”
“I know you don’t know, but what do you think?”
“I’m not sure, that’s why I asked you.”
“I think she liked me too. At least, I hope she did.”
“How could you tell?”
“We would do anything for each other, and I think if you feel that for someone, you truly love them.”
“Is that why you let her die?”
“Yes.”
“Because that’s what she wanted to do?”
“Because that’s what she wanted to do, yes.”
“I think I liked someone once too.”
“Where did they go?”
“They died too.”
Phillip Russell is an undergraduate English major with a concentration in Creative Writing at Michigan State University. His work has appeared in Writer's Digest, Crunchable and HyperText Magazine.
