Although the story is fiction....Brian really did die and he was hit by a drunk driver....just remember before you get behind the wheel drunk, just dont...kks!

disclaimer:....i own characters and plot...nothing else...copyright k.s. may 05

He was an ordinary person. If you were to pass him in the hall, you would have probably forgotten him almost instantly. To me, he was my world, the one who started shaping me into the person I am today. I was of the fairly popular, preppie group. He was of the druggie group and had failed the eight grade. He was a free spirit and hated the confines of the classroom. I was, well, a nerd, and a straight A student. We first met when my English teacher paired us together for a poetry project and the unlikely romance began.
He really was quite ordinary looking, shaggy hair, lean body and no striking features. His bangs hid his eyes, a startling blue-green, with a depth of sadness you can’t imagine. His eyes made him seem years older than he really was. He really did try to blend in, but I just couldn’t forget him. As I found out quickly he hated school and really didn’t care if he graduated. For the first few weeks we didn’t communicate. I worked on the project and he sat. That was fine by me until I hit a rock, we had to come up with an original poem. I couldn’t write poetry to save my life, stories, maybe but not poems. So one day as we were sitting there, I asked him if he could write a poem for the project. He answered yes, yes he could. I told him to give it to me on Monday so I could put the project together on Tuesday night. The project was due on Wednesday.
So, on Monday, he walks up to me, while I was talking to my friends, hands me the poem and shuffles off. As my friends ask about him, I stash the poem in my non-important folder and leave. When I actually got around to reading the poem, it was late Tuesday night and I was frantically hurrying to finish the project and go to bed. “Mom, where’s the glue?” I said.
“In the drawer hunni, hurry up and get it done.”
As I was shuffling through the drawer, my cell phone rings. “Hello?”
“Anna? It’s Brian, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the movies with me on Friday?”
“Ummm….” Brian was the guy I had a crush on since I started middle school. Brian was nothing like him, so I trusted my instinct and said no thanks, that I had something to do, wondering why I felt so happy afterward.
When I found the glue, I ran up the stairs and grabbed the poem. Just before I glued it on the poster, I felt a curious need to read the poem. When I had finished the poem, I felt a longing, as I have never felt before. I had always been quite content with my life. This one poem, written by this one ordinary guy had somehow disrupted my contentment. The next day at school I quietly observed my friends and activities with a new look, was I really that superficial? The period before English, I got really excited; I could finally talk to him about his poem and how it had affected me. After we presented our project, I told him how much I had liked the poem and asked him if he had anymore. He looked at me for a second and uncaringly handed over a notebook full of poems and half put together stories.
That day I went home a happy and confused person. I stayed up the whole night and read every single poem and story, and I loved them all. The next day at school I impatiently waited for fifth period, English class. As soon as I got in the class, I sat down in the seat next to him and said “I really liked your poems, they were great!”
He looked at me surprised and said, “No one has ever appreciated my poems, and I never thought anyone would, especially not you.”
I just looked at him and asked, “Why not me?”
He answered, “Because you always acted so sickeningly nice, sweet, and perfect, I always thought you were too dumb to even get poetry.”
I looked at him and laughed “How little you know of me and I of you. now I have a question about two of your poems…” and so started the talking. We talked about all kinds of subjects, what did you want to be when you grow up, where would you go if money was unlimited and what was your most embarrassing moment? We talked and talked and talked and if you ask me to this day, I still have no idea what we were supposed to be doing in English. I never wanted the bell to ring but of course it did and my period of happiness ended, “Well, I guess it’s off to the guillotine, call me later and we will continue our discussion?” I said.
“Sure,” he answered enthusiastically, as he chuckled. For the first time, I had seen him show emotion. Then we walked our separate ways, this “talking” went on for several weeks until we had exhausted all non-personal topics. then we started asking personal questions. About home, school, friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, and past experiences. You name it we talked about it.
Until one day, he got up the nerve to ask me out and I said yes. All my friends wondered if my gerbil had died, but I told them that I really liked him. “He’s so plain!” they all said, “Why him, instead of Brian?” they asked. I told them over and over, it wasn’t his looks or status, it was his soul that drew me to him. They didn’t get it. so I started spending less and less time with them and more and more time with him and his friends. Soon enough, I had fallen considerably in the high school status rankings, but I didn’t care. I was truly happy for the first time in my life and I was learning new things about myself every day. As for him, his grades went up, he started looking at colleges and I even got him to publish a couple of his poems in the school newspaper.
Pretty soon, the days turned in to weeks, weeks to months, and months to years. It was a month before our third year anniversary, and two months till graduation. We were planning on going to the same college, Southwestern, in Virginia. Then one day my perfect world shattered.
It was a Friday afternoon. I had just driven home from school to get ready for our date tonight. it was an early anniversary present because he was going to be in New York helping his aunt during our anniversary. I had just gotten out of the shower when the phone rang, “Hello?”
“Anna? It’s Greg I have some really bad news.”
“What Greg” I replied in an impatient voice. Greg was his best friend, but Greg and I really never got along, we were just too different.
“He’s dead, Anna.”
“No, no he’s not , he, he can’t be, your lying to me, your just trying to break us up, today was going great until you called, now just leave me be and let me get ready for my date!” I shouted into the phone, my voice trembling.
“I swear Anna, I’m not trying to hurt you. You gave him life and a reason to live in his darkest times. I resented you at first but now I am thankful you came into his life, please believe me, please Anna please.”
“Oh God!” I could tell he was not lying because his voice broke; I dropped the phone and sunk to the ground, dissolving in tears.
As I stand by his coffin today, between Greg and his mother, the tears do not stop. As the procession walked by I laid my red rose on his casket and tied to that rose was the first ever poem I had written, for him. He was killed by a drunk driver, on his way home from the store. The driver lives in the jail now, a convicted felon, charged with felony DUI. But, this means nothing to me. all I know is that man in jail took away my life, my reason for living. You ask for his name, it is Brian Richard Meisner, the boy who saved my life, and nurtured my spirit, who was sent to the grave by a careless driver.

Wow that was really powerful so simple but sooo powerful wow

Apart from the fact that you never even knew Brian...it was good. Still makes me teary eyed to think about him...Why did you change it to Brian? I thought it was good the way it was but I guess this is good too. I feel bad for Nicole...this computer hates me so I'll make it short. Luv ya truly! ~Alli~